


What's in a Name if Not a Monster?

by sideofgrima



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, F/M, Fantasy, Female My Unit | Reflet | Robin, Friends to Enemies then Back to Friends to Lovers, Religious Conflict, that awkward moment when you think of a plot line and just run with it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25681942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sideofgrima/pseuds/sideofgrima
Summary: Chrom, having lived his whole life as a simple shepherd, realizes how unprepared he is for the world of dark magic, evil wizards and dastardly creatures when he meets a strange girl in the forest: a girl with no name and six, feathered wings upon her back.Ten years later, his meddling with matters that didn't concern him gets him face to face with Grima, the dark Fell Dragon of old. Or... is it actually Grima? Something doesn't seem right and yet, it all seems awfully familiar. A series of unfortunate events reveals that Chrom's choices would effect those he loved greatly... and may even bring the end of the world.
Relationships: Chrom/My Unit | Reflet | Robin
Comments: 22
Kudos: 103





	1. Prologue 1: The Girl with No Name

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, here's what I'm thinking. Maybe 4 prologue's and then we really get into the meat and potatoes of this story WHICH I am actually super excited to write. I got the idea for this like a prophet receiving visions from an angry god, so hopefully it turns out good! I just ask that people bear with me lol

**Prologue 1: The Girl Without a Name**

It was supposed to be an easy job.

_ Really _ , it was. Because how hard could it have been to herd your family’s flock of sheep up the nearby mountain so they could graze on the lush grass? 

Yet Chrom chastised himself for losing control as soon as they breached the heights. And this was  _ truly _ not a time he needed to lose any sheep.

It started off fine, like any trip up to the peaks he’d take with his father or sister. He rallied his herd up the rough, graveled path with Cedra, his family’s new shepherd dog, in tow. She was young, still a puppy, but she had spirit. A spirit that Chrom could appreciate.

What he didn’t appreciate was her driving his flock down from the mountainous pastures down into the nearby valley. It was embarrassing enough to have your sheep ignore you. It was even more embarrassing to have them  _ instead _ obey a tiny puppy, one who’s puny jaws nipped and gnawed at their thundering hooves. 

So, losing leadership to a dog. Not a great move. But Chrom knew he could put his frustrations aside and regain his composure. So he gave chase, crook in hand, down the mountain, praying that this clifface was opposite that of his home, just so Father couldn’t see him in such a state.

As he continued to run, he felt a pit form in his stomach. This  _ really _ was the wrong day for something to go amiss. Just last week, his father, Oswin, had nonchalantly said at dinner that Chrom was to herd the sheep on their normal routine by himself.  _ No big deal _ , he had thought. He’d gone through that route tons of times before. But then Oswin said that if a single hair on any of the sheep were harmed or out of place, Chrom would be getting shipped off to the apprenticeship guild in Ylisstol, where he would ‘actually make some gold for the family’ or whatever his father had said. 

The worst part was that Chrom almost understood his father’s reasoning. Their family were but simple shepherds, with a myriad of sheep under their names, and such a profession didn’t warrant much gold.

Yet their sheep were different.

See, it was  _ because _ they brought their livestock up to the mountains to graze almost everyday that made them special. Oswin insisted the higher elevation was ‘good for their coats’ and ‘made the meat more flavorful’, while his mother, Edrea, simply said that this mountain had been blessed with rich soil and bountiful grasses after a divine dragon laid to rest there a thousand years ago.

Chrom knew both of them were  _ most  _ likely wrong, but hey, their chattel brought in gold so who was he to complain. 

What he  _ could _ complain about was the perilous journey up the mountain. Loose rocks, unstable paths, even packs of wolves frequented this area, hoping to pick off a weak lamb or two. What he  _ definitely  _ would complain about was the fact his father just dropped this ultimatum on him out of the blue. He was just shy of seeing his thirteenth year, and already he was forced to perform above perfect or be shipped off away from his sisters and mother. Or from the friends he had made in their little village. Or from the small house he called home. 

Chrom didn’t find it fair, to be frank.

He could’ve continued thinking like this for hours if the scene before him didn’t snap him out of his thoughts. A split in the valley, where one path took them back to his family’s ranch, and the other… Chrom gasped. The other lead right into Mansfell Woods.

_ Of  _ course _ it's Mansfell, _ he thought bitterly. The  _ one _ place he was forbidden to enter, and Cedra was headed straight for it. 

He never quite understood the dangers behind the forest. His father mentioned something about how an evil mage lived in there and stole away any poor sap who dared enter. His mother, instead, said that the forest itself was magic, and that those who entered lost all sense of direction and never came out. Emmeryn said there was a magical beast who lived within who ate little boys with blue hair. 

Though, if you asked him, he was almost  _ positive _ that one wasn’t true. Yet there was always a chance that  _ something _ lurked within, and that chance was what terrified him.

So he almost screamed when he watched as Cedra urged the herd to head straight into the twisted thicket. 

Chrom slowed to a stop, just a few beats away from the woods. His heart thundered in his chest as he peered within. The canopy of ancient trees weaved together in such a way that allowed little to no light to filter through, so the forest was as dark as could be.

But he could still hear his herd,  _ somewhere _ in there. And… well, if he didn’t come back with them, he could kiss his old life goodbye. So against his better judgement, he charged right in, pushing the bushes and shrubs aside with his wooden crook.

As soon as he stepped inside, what felt like a thick fog immediately settled the area. He definitely didn’t expect that, or the fact he could barely see anything in front of him. He had half the mind to turn right back around, maybe run back home and ask for help but… Chrom could just imagine the rage his father would be in.

So he pressed on, though he instantly regretted the decision as the fog somehow seemed to get even thicker, so much so he could barely see the wooden crook he held in his hands just a foot away from him. He was  _ also _ unable to see the root that stuck itself out of the ground like a sore thumb, and promptly tripped over it. He landed both on his face and in a convenient puddle of mud, which seemed to only exist to make his day worse.

As he stood, he let out a cry of frustration and swung his crook around, willing it to connect with something other than fog.

“CEDRA!” He cried, hearing his voice echo against the verdant leaves and twisted trunks of the trees surrounding him. There was no reply. Not even a tiny yap in the distance, or the bleat of a nearby ewe. “What is father going to think…?”

He contemplated just laying down and letting the earth envelop him. He  _ knew _ what inevitable punishment was waiting for him back at home, and frankly, he didn’t want to go back and witness it.

“Gods, okay… you can work your way through this, Chrom…” he tried to tell himself. He took a deep breath before bending down to the ground, running his hands over the dirt until he thought he felt the hoofprints of his sheep. Trusting his gut, he followed their direction deeper into the weald.

Soon enough, the fog began to lighten. His flock definitely moved through this area, if the multitude of trampled branches and broken shrubs were any indication. He searched the area, swearing he heard the clammer of the herd, and maybe even the bark of Cedra, electing to follow the sounds with hope in his heart. 

Eventually, he came across a clearing where the fog had completely dissipated. The canopy was thin here, allowing light to finally filter down to the ground below. Situated towards the far end of the clearing was a small spring of water, which trickled out into a smaller pool below.

With a frown, Chrom investigated every part of the area, seemingly having lost the tracks of the sheep. 

“Ughh…” he groaned as he knelt down to splash his face with the cool waters of the stream. “Why would he think I was ready to herd them by myself… And with Cedra, no less.” 

With a surge of anger, he shot his crook into the surrounding brush. Maybe some miserable bloke stuck in the woods would find more use for it than he could.

Chrom threw himself to the ground and leaned his back up against a large, moss covered boulder, burying his head in his hands. Those sheep had been in his family for generations, and after the passing of their old dog, Cedra had been bought by a reputable breeder, meaning she wasn’t cheap. His family’s livelihood and then some had just been sunk down the drain, and it was all thanks to him.

Amidst his thoughts, his crook was suddenly tossed back out of the brush back at him.

His heart might have stopped in that moment if he wasn’t already so distraught.

“Very funny, ha ha!” He yelled, grabbing his crook and tossing it right back into the brush. “I’m not in the mood right now, so just keep the stupid thing!”

“Ow!” Came a higher pitched voice as the wooden tool hit the bushes. “Gods, get your trash out of my forest, human!” The crook came back once more from the bush and landed at his feet.

“It's made of wood, it’s not trash!” Chrom shouted as he got to his feet and approached the bush. “I already said I’m not in the mood, so would you just-” he was abruptly cut off as a blur of purple and silver leapt out of the brush and collided into him, sending him sprawling to the ground. Sitting on him was a fairly young girl, maybe about his own age, wearing a massive, dark purple coat. 

“And  _ I  _ said- wait…  _ you’re _ a human?” She asked as she tilted her head.

“Y-yes? Is that such a shock?” He wheezed. The girl was small but… she weighed much more than he would’ve expected. Probably on account of the cloak, Chrom assumed. 

“I thought you’d look more… scary? Lots of teeth, horns, maybe a tail? But you look…” she started to poke and prod at his face, eventually pulling his lip up to look at his teeth. “Wimpy… maybe a little pathetic, even.”

“ _ Pathetic!? _ ” Chrom cried from underneath her. “I’m not pathetic at all!”

“Huh,” was all the girl said before she crawled off of his chest, walking on all fours to his crook. “Here, take your wooden thingy and get out of my forest. It’s not safe for humans.”

“Er, are you  _ not _ a human?” He asked. By all accounts she  _ looked  _ like a human. Though the silver hair was definitely odd, especially for someone as young as she appeared to be.

“I said  _ get out _ ,” the girl urged as she shoved the tool into his hands. She looked at him with piercing brown eyes as she sat back on her haunches, almost as if she was studying him.

“I can handle myself perfectly well in here, thank you very  _ much _ ,” Chrom insisted, his grip on his crook tightening. “I’m not as pathetic as you think!”

“Is that why a bunch of sheep ran through her just a few moments ago? Led by a tiny ball of fur? Were you hunting them?” She asked again.

“Wait, you saw them? Which way did they go?” He pleaded. The girl only looked at him before dropping to all fours. She whipped around and sprinted to a large tree, only to quickly scale up its trunk to a higher branch.

“Tell you what: I’ll show you where they are  _ if _ you can catch me,” she said with a huge smile. Chrom groaned. He certainly did  _ not _ have time to play games with weird, feral girls in the forest, and  _ especially _ not ones who walked around in the forest barefoot. But… she was his best bet in finding Cedra and the herd. So with a sigh, he dropped his tool and started to follow her up the tree. 

The way she climbed higher and higher was… interesting. She was so animallike in the way she moved, and even in the way she spoke to him. He had never met someone like that in his life, and he  _ certainly _ didn’t expect to meet anyone like that today of all days.

He continued to climb until he was just within reach of her coattails. He reached up with a furrowed brow, his fingers just about to graze the dark fabric....only for her to leap from the top of her tree to the one next to them. 

“Hey! That’s not fair! You said if I could reach you up here, you’d help me!” He tried to argue, feeling his knees go weak as he looked down. The ground seemed to be much further away than he had expected…

“I said if you can  _ catch _ me, I’d help you!” She giggled. “But I’m having fun, so why don’t you try to come over here?” The strange girl taunted as she dangled precariously off the top of the tree. 

Chrom huffed. He quickly took one more look at the ground, his stomach turning at the thought of falling. He instead took a deep breath and launched himself from his perch at the top of the tree. With his hands outstretched, he expected to feel the rough covering of the branch in his grasp, only to feel nothing but a pit in his stomach as he plummeted to the ground. 

He didn’t even have time to scream. He watched as the grass below him got closer and closer, until he expected to impact the dirt and inevitably break a few bones or worse. 

But something caught him by the back of his shirt, preventing his death. He looked back to see the silver-haired girl floating above him, hand outstretched and caught in his shirt. Behind her were three sets of massive, feathry wings, each beating in an eerie rhythm that kept them afloat. She gently drifted to the ground and let Chrom go, letting him land directly on his face. 

With a groan, he flipped onto his back and watched as the girl's wings shrunk back into her body.

“I… Why did you save me?” He asked, just barely registering this girl  _ had wings _ .

“Because I think you’re funny,” she stated flatly. “You’re the first human I’ve talked to and it’d be a shame for you to expire so quickly.”

“Well, that’s quite the re- wait, you’ve never spoken to anyone? Like,  _ ever _ ?!”

“Is that not what I said?” She responded as she climbed on top of the rock Chrom had been leaning up against earlier.

“Well, yes… but that’s, I don’t know, a little odd to hear?”

“Why?”

“Because it just is! So you’re telling me I’m the first person you’ve  _ ever _ met?”

“Not entirely. I said you were the first human I’ve ever  _ talked _ to,” she enunciated. “The Twelve Lords that live with me are certainly human, and so is my father but they’re… strange.”

Chrom had to stop himself from snorting. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what this girl’s version of strange could  _ possibly  _ be, considering she  _ literally _ had wings. She had WINGS. What human had wings!?

“Anymore questions?” She asked with a scowl. 

“N-no, I guess not. If anything I should be thanking you for saving me,” he admitted. “I’m Chrom, by the way.”

“That’s a strange name.”

“No it’s not! Like yours is any better!”

“My what?” The girl looked confused.

“Your name? I bet yours is ten times stranger than mine!”

“I don’t have one.” 

“That’s ridiculous. Everyone has a name.”

“Except for me. Since I don’t have one.”

“Then what do people call you?”

“Nobody calls me anything. Nothing like a name…” she stopped to think for a moment. “Except for Mus… and my father. And Bovis, I guess.”

“And… what do they call you?”

“It’s none of your business! You said you had no more questions!” She yelled, her temper flaring. 

“Alright, alright! Sorry!” He tried to calm her. The two sat and stared at each other for a moment, neither entirely sure what to say. Chrom frankly, had lied when he said he didn’t have any more questions. In truth, he had  _ loads _ for this mysterious girl. The girl without a name.  _ Such a strange thing to say… _ he thought to himself. Yet, she seemingly had a bit of a temper, and admittedly, Chrom was a bit scared of her, so he decided to keep his questions to himself.

“Well, I do believe I’m bored now. I’m leaving,” the girl said after a while. She stood up on the rock and let her feathery wings appear once more, which succeeded in startling Chrom. 

“Wait!” He cried just before she took off. “I… um, I still need to find my sheep. Can you help?”

“Wasn’t our deal that you had to catch me before I helped?” She asked, though there was no sense of malice in her voice.

“Yes but… I’m going to be in serious trouble if I go home without them,” he admitted.

The girl only stared at Chrom before swooping off her rock and picking him up by the arms. He let out a yelp as she began to fly him out of the woods, taking little care in the branches and twigs that whipped at his face, which  _ definitely  _ stung. Gods, he could just imagine how many tiny cuts he was going to have. 

After a moment of flying, the two emerged out of the woods and back to the soft pastures of the mountain. The girl let go of Chrom and sent him somersaulting through the air, until he landed on the ground and skidded through the grass. He quickly got up, only to be pounced on by a tiny ball of fur, which started to promptly lick his face.

“Cedra!?” He gasped, the tiny shepherd yapping in response. Chrom took a look behind him, seeing his sheep grazing on the soft meadow, as if nothing had happened. His head shot back to the border of Mansfell, where he locked eyes with the girl. “Thank you!” He cried and waved his hand back and forth. She almost seemed to be confused by the motion, though she still imitated by waving a stiff arm in the same way he had. “Good-bye!” He yelled before letting Cedra down and ushering the herd forward.

“Good… Bye?” The girl repeated to herself, watching as the blue haired boy disappeared over the hill. 

Part of her wanted to write that boy off as just another typical human. Headstrong and stubborn, too weak to live alone. Yet another part, and a quieter one at that, had a feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time she saw him. And that same part secretly hoped it wouldn’t be.

  
  



	2. Prologue 2: Spoon of Salt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things aren't meant to last forever, and Chrom finds that out the hard way.

Chrom’s return home hadn’t been to notable. Other than the fact that his older sister, Emmeryn, had been sitting at the edge of their sheep enclosure for hours, hoping and praying for his safe return.

“Where have you been? You were supposed to be back well before the sun set!” She scolded, grabbing hold of Chrom by the arm. “And where is your crook? I hope nobody gave you trouble.” His sister immediately began fretting over him, checking to make sure he was uninjured. She ran a delicate finger over his face, tutting as she wiped away some blood from his cheeks. 

“I’m fine, Emm,” Chrom insisted as he pushed her sister away. “I just had some issue with getting the sheep to listen to me, that’s all. Cedra thought my crook was a stick and… eh, she um, bit it and tossed it over the mountain side,” he stammered.

“You’re a poor liar, Chrom,” Emmeryn chided before letting a huge smile grow across her face. “But look at you! You actually did it!”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I did…”

“Did something happen out there? I figured you’d be a little more excited,” she asked, giving her brother a quizzical look. 

“I mean…” Chrom fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. _Could I trust her enough to tell her? What if she told Father?_ He wondered to himself.

“What happened?” She insisted. With a heavy sigh, he spilled everything. Everything except the girl. Omitting very, _very_ specific details wouldn’t be lying, would it?

Emmeryn stared at him for a moment before she started to laugh. “Chrom, if you didn’t want to tell me, that’s okay. But you didn’t have to lie!”

“What!? I’m _not_ lying!” He argued back, feeling his face go red. 

“Okay, okay. Even if you _did_ make it into Mansfell, there’s no way you would’ve survived. That forest is… ugh, I don’t even want to think about it. Even _that_ place still scares me,” she admitted. Before Chrom could say anything else, their mother appeared in the back doorway of their house.

“Children, come inside for supper! You don’t want the stew to get cold, right?” She called, bracing herself on the frame as she let out a hacking cough.

“Oh, Mother, don’t strain yourself…” Emmeryn advised, dashing to her mother's side to give her support. 

“I’m fine, dear. Just a tickle, that’s all. The apothecary’s son is supposed to come by today to drop off some medicine, anyways, so I’ll be okay,” she insisted.

“If you say so…” Emmeryn sighed. 

As the three headed into the small farmhouse, the smell of cooked rabbit and savory vegetables wafted through the air. Lissa and their Father had already sat themselves down and began eating, filling their guts with the hardy meal.

“Chrom,” his father spoke as he and Emmeryn took their seats. “I’m glad to see you returned with the sheep.”

“Of course, Father…” he said quietly, making quick eye contact before focusing on his stew.

“Why were you late?”

 _Right to the point as always…_ Chrom thought bitterly to himself.

“I was going to have them back by our scheduled time but Cedra had other plans. I spent half my time chasing them through the mountains,” he lied.

“You mean to tell me you lost control of a flock of chattel to a _puppy_?” His father gestured to the tiny dog, who had sprawled herself in front of the fireplace and was snoring away.

“An untrained, novice shepherd dog, yes. Who’s very instinct is to rally sheep and herd them,” Emmeryn added, giving their father a sharp glare, while Chrom gave his sister an appreciative look.

“And a dog nonetheless. This won’t happen again, or so help me-”

“Oswin, enough,” their mother finally interjected. “Leave the poor boy alone. He returned, safe and sound, did he not?”

“If that’s the case, then what do you call all those cuts and scrapes on his face?” Oswin continued, gesturing with his dripping spoon. Chrom’s heart dropped. When that girl had flown him out of the woods… _gods, she must’ve done that on purpose!_

“Eh… When I was trying to, um, get the herd to listen, one of the rams, um… headbutted me? I landed face first in a pile of gravel…” he lied once more, barely glancing up at his father. Lissa suddenly put a hand over her mouth and tried to cover her laughter. “What’s so funny about that?!” Chrom demanded.

“Oh, nothing! I just wish I could’ve been there to see it!” She chuckled.

“Please, Lissa. If you got attacked by a ram, he would’ve knocked you clear off the mountain side!” Chrom yelled.

“Nuh-uh!” Lissa shot back.

“Yu-huh!” Chrom retorted. His younger sister suddenly tossed a ball of bread at his face, which hit him square between the eyes. “Hey!”

“Children, don’t throw food at the table!” Their mother chided, putting a cloth to her mouth as she tried to hold her coughs in. But Chrom didn’t listen, and instead launched a chunk of potato as Lissa’s face with his spoon. It landed in her hair, which she further smeared across her scalp as she tried to retrieve it. 

Emmeryn swatted at the back of his head. “Enough! Don’t play with your food, brother!”

“But she started it first!” He yelled back.

“No I didn’t!” Lissa cried as she slammed her hands on the table, which caused its wooden legs to buckle under the sudden weight.

“Hands off the gods damned table, young lady,” Oswin warned. 

“Everyone, _enough_ -” their mother tried before seemingly hacking up a lung. 

“Edrea, don’t strain yourself. Let me take care of this,” their father chided. 

“Well you’re doing a piss poor job of it thus far!” Edrea said as she gestured to the three screaming kids. 

“ENOUGH!” Oswin shouted, his temper flaring. “I just want a calm dinner, is that so much to ask? Why does it have to resort to a screaming match every five _damned_ minutes?”

“Because you insist on interrogating Chrom when you sent him out on a fool’s errand, by himself!” Emmeryn shot back. A vein in Oswin’s neck throbbed as he reached over the table, raising a hand to strike his child, only for a sharp _ahem_ to cut through the tension.

“Is this… a bad time?” A young, brown haired boy said from the doorway. In his hands was a small leather bag, which he fidgeted with. 

“Oh, Stahl, not at all,” Edrea said as she glared at Oswin. She struggled to get up out of her chair and stumbled to the boy, gratefully accepting the bag. “My medicine, I assume?”

“Yes, ma’am. My father said to crush the herbs up in your morning tea every day, and to rub the salve on your chest at night to help open your airways. He’s working on a new concoction for you, but he’s unsure of when that will be ready.”

“Gods, I can’t thank you or your father enough…” she sighed. “Oswin, _dear_ , do we have Stahl’s payment?”

Oswin reached over to the counter and tossed a small bag of coins at Edrea, who fumbled to catch it. “I hope this will be enough for everything?” She almost pleaded. The boy held the bag of coins in his hand, as if weighing it. His face twitched, but whether that was from the unfortunately light bag of coins or form something else, no one could tell.

“I’m sure it will be, ma’am. But before I go,” he turned to Chrom. “Frederick and Sully are here to see you. I caught them on my way here.”

“Oh! Can I…” Chrom looked to his mother, who nodded. He shot up out of his seat and dashed out the doorway, just barely avoiding crashing into Stahl. Further out and closer to the sheep enclosure stood a young girl with fiery red hair, and an older boy, who held himself up mucher straighter than his peers. 

“Chrom!” Sully cheered, waving her hand wildly in the air. “Glad to see you’re still here and not off in some moldy guild!”

“Heh, you and me both,” he admitted. “What’re you guys doing here so late?”

“Well, we wanted to make sure you came back in one piece, for starters,” she teased. “And also to tell you something. But let’s hear how it went! I can’t imagine it was too difficult, right?”

“Well, it wasn’t. But Cedra…” Chrom paused. He could tell these guys, right? They were his friends, and had been for quite some time. And Emmeryn surely made it out to be some big event that he had survived the woods...and besides, who would they tell? “Cedra rallied the sheep off of the mountain and into Mansfell,” he said with a smirk.

“Whaaaaat,” Sully said in disbelief.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Frederick scoffed.

“Oh, come on guys! Why is that so hard to believe?” He cried. “I told Emmeryn the same thing, and she had the same reaction!”

“Because you seriously expect us to believe that your little sheep puppy led the herd into the most dangerous forest in Ylisse and you, what, followed them in and _lived_?” Sully laughed. “Nice try, Chrom.”

“Gods, you guys are the worst! I seriously don’t think that Mansfell is as dangerous as we think, ‘cause I met a girl in there!”

“Oooo, you met a girl?” Stahl teased. “What, is she your girlfriend?”

“N-no!” Chrom stammered. “But I think she lived in the woods. She was super weird too. She wore this huge coat and ran around barefoot…” 

“What, so you and your feral girlfriend walked through the woods together while you searched for your sheep?” Sully chaffed. “You could’ve just said that, Chrom.”

“Stop! I’m not lying about this!” He said, feeling his face go hot.

“Guys, I think he’s telling the truth,” Frederick said after a moment. 

“Oh, come on, you don’t seriously buy into this?” Sully asked with a quirk in her brow.

“Normally, no. But Chrom,” he paused. “Is a terrible liar.” The shepherd huffed. “So I’m inclined to believe him this time around.”

“Me too,” Stahl added. “I go to Mansfell all the time.” The three other kids whipped around to stare at him, each with varying levels of confusion on their faces. “I go to collect herbs and roots for my dad. The only thing I’ve seen in there has been super thick fog.”

“That’s what I ran into too. But I found this clearing and that's where I met the girl,” Chrom added.

“I hope everyone realizes how much trouble we could get into if anyone found out. Chrom, your father would skin you alive, and Stahl… well, I think so long as you bring back new plants for your weird dad, you’d probably be fine,” Sully concluded. 

“Hey!” Stahl cried. “My dad isn’t weird!”

“Let’s move on, yeah? Before we get into another fight?” Chrom suggested before gesturing to Sully and Frederick. “You guys said you wanted to talk about something?”

“Quite right,” the older boy said. “As you know, Sully and I have been working towards joining the Knights of Ylisstol. And such a process is extremely taxing and arduous. So-”

“We finally got accepted,” the girl finished for him, which earned her a glare from Frederick.

“ _Yes_ , I was _getting_ to that,” he continued with a huff. “We’ll be departing for Ylisstol within the moon.”

“Wait, so you guys aren’t staying here?” Chrom asked, confused.

“The Knights of Ylisstol train rigorously for years. We’re moving into the barracks of the castle, so it wouldn’t make sense for us to stay here.”

“What, so you guys are just leaving? Stahl and I are never to see you again?”

“Gods, Chrom, don’t be so dramatic. We can come back to visit just… not as often as you’d probably like,” Sully added in.

“Don’t call me dramatic! I just found out my two best friends are moving away to live away in the capital, and I’m just supposed to be happy about that?” 

“I mean, it’s been a dream of theirs for a long time to be knights, Chrom. You could be happy for that, at least,” Stahl tried to suggest.

“Gods, I guess… I am _happy_ for you guys, I just…” he stammered, struggling to find his words.

“It probably wasn’t the most courteous of us to spring news like this tonight, considering… recent events,” Frederick adjusted his collar. 

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Chrom sighed, looking back to his house as the final candles were put out for bed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lashed out at you guys like that.”

“We could’ve handled going about this better. No harm done,” Sully admitted. “But hey, we still have a month, so it’s not like we’re leaving tomorrow, yeah?”  
“Heh, no, you’re right,” Chrom chuckled to himself. “I think I’m gonna turn in for tonight, seeing as most of my family is asleep already. I’ll see you all later, okay?”

He didn’t wait for anyone to give him a farewell before whipping around and walking back to his house, albeit a little too fast. His friends had always been an escape from his family. More specifically, an escape from his father. Losing half their group in one night, just like that… Chrom wanted to hit himself. He still had Stahl, but he and the apothecary had very little in common. 

What they considered fun deviated heavily from the other. Stahl loved to go out into the woods and poke and prod at plants or dead animals and think about the medicinal purposes they might have. Chrom would be right behind him, instead swinging a stick around and pretending he was an old hero of legend.

Sully was more like him out of anyone, but because of that, they often butted heads. Both possessed a stubbornness unlike anyone else, and when an immovable object meets an unstoppable force, there’s no telling _what_ could happen.

Frederick, while a few years older, was closest to Chrom, but for reasons he couldn’t quite explain. The older boy was very proper, maybe a little _too_ proper for a farm boy raised in a tiny village, but there was something about it that made Chrom feel secure.

So losing them meant more trips to the woods to catalog ferns and slime molds. 

Yet, there was something that tugged at the back of his brain. There _was_ a forest he wouldn’t mind going back to. And he knew there was someone in there that he wanted to see again.

‘When a door closes, two more open’ his mother had always said. And for once, Chrom actually knew what she meant.

  
  



	3. Prologue 3: Pinch of Sugar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the best way to make new friends is by ranting about your home life.

It turns out that once you lie to your parents once, it gets  _ much _ easier to do it again. All it took was to say, “Hey, me and Stahl are going out into the countryside to pick herbs for his dad,” on a day where Emmeryn was taking care of the sheep and he was all set.

After packing a bag of holey cheese and hard bread, he set out to the village, just to make it less suspicious of where he was going. Chrom cut through the town square avoiding as many people as possible before looping back around and cutting across the hilly fields. Eventually, the treeline of Mansfell came into view, and he slinked across the outskirts before reaching the entrance.

He couldn’t help but let his heart race. Entering this forest before had been necessary, but now… entering of his own volition? Part of him screamed to turn right back around, yet another urged him to enter. His grip on the straps of his bag tightened, and his jaw clenched. With uneasy footing, he stepped into the thicket, much as he had yesterday. But this time, there was something different about Mansfell.

The air felt thinner, not like the suffocating atmosphere Chrom experienced yesterday. The fog, while still thick, settled over the weald in a much more comforting way. As if it was enveloping the trees in a sweet embrace, letting the inhabitants know they were safe. 

Needless to say, the new ambience was calming.

Despite this, Chrom hastily grabbed a fallen branch from the ground. It wasn’t much in ways of defense, but it was better than what he had. Which was nothing.

So he headed into the woods, trying his best to remember the path he took, yet felt less than confident with each step. It seemed every tree looked the same, and every brush had the same types of berries. Did he pass by this boulder already? Oh, he could’ve  _ sworn _ he’d stepped in this moss patch already!

Chrom officially hated this forest. 

Every twig snap sent his heart into a tizzy, every rustle of the bushes made his head whip around. Every noise in this gods damned forest got his hopes up, that the girl would just magically show up out of the blue, just so he could stop walking around aimlessly.

But alas, fortune was not on his side. With a grunt of frustration, he turned back around to head out of the woods, only to pause… 

“Did I just come through there? Or here…?” He tried to reason with himself, only to fall further into confusion. 

Eventually, Chrom just decided on a direction to head in, praying it was the right way, only to be whisked up in a flurry of feathers above the canopy of the forest. He barely managed to let out a yelp before he was flown back down, right into the clearing he was searching for. He tumbled down onto the grass, looking back as his assailant perchered herself atop the same moss covered boulder as the other day.

“You came back?” The girl asked as she cocked her head. 

“I did,” Chrom said as he got to his feet, swiping away any dirt or grass on his person.

“But I recall telling you not to?” She questioned.

“I’m sure you did,” he responded. “But-”

“And you came anyway? I’m assuming you didn’t lose your sheep again, so what’s the excuse this time?”

“W-well,” he stammered. Admitting to this girl he came back just to see her seemed a  _ bit _ too forward. His backpack suddenly felt very heavy on his shoulders as he remembered its contents. “I wanted to, er, eat lunch in a place with a view!” He gestured to the clearing.

“Really?”

“Of course! And nothing says ‘picturesque view’ like a beautiful forest!” He explained, resting a hand on the boulder, only for a larger than average centipede to suddenly dash out across his hand. With a yelp, he flung it upwards, watching as the girl caught it in her hands. 

“Mhm…” she hummed, letting the insect crawl back onto the stone. “You know how dangerous it is here for humans?”

“So I’ve heard, yet I’m still alive, aren’t I? Seems there isn’t anything too scary in here, right?”

“Yes, except for ME!” The girl screamed, flaring her wings out and lunging at Chrom, who let out a less than dignified shriek. As he fell back, the girl fell onto her back into a fit of giggles. “Ha! Hahaha! I got you!”

“Yeah, and it wasn’t  _ funny _ ,” he shot back. “It was really mean, actually!”

“Look, you’re still alive!” She pointed out. “Unless you think you’re about to keel over from being scared? I guess I wouldn’t be surprised if that happened, though.”

“Oh, forgive me for being terrified of a random human with wings in the forest!” Chrom tried to argue back, settling down against the boulder.

“I’m not a human,” the girl muttered. “I’m much more. At least that’s what my dad says.”

“I don’t even know what that’s supposed to mean!” He cried as he pilfered through his bag, pulling out the food he had packed. He broke a piece of the crumbling cheese and popped it into his mouth. 

“What is that?” The girl asked, sliding down the rock to sit at his side.

“It’s just cheese,” Chrom shrugged before holding it out for her. “Do you want a piece?”

“It smells funky,” she said, plugging her nose. “What else do you have?”

“A bit of bread, that’s all.”

“Well that’s  _ boring _ ,” she sighed. “I would’ve expected human food to be less… hardy?”

“Well what do you eat? If bread and cheese is so boring?”

“I don’t eat,” the girl said so matter-of-factly that Chrom almost choked on his food. Though, he figured he shouldn’t have been that surprised by the notion, considering how odd everything else about her was. 

“Huh,” was all he managed to say. “Try some of mine.”

The girl reluctantly took a piece of each in both hands, staring at them hesitantly before dropping both into her mouth. As she chewed, her face displayed a myriad of emotions, though none of which seemed to be disgust. In the end, she looked pleasantly surprised. 

“Strange… I’ve seen the Twelve Lords eat stuff like this before but my dad always said it was repulsive. But it’s… good?”

“Wait, so your father never gave you food? What’s wrong with him?”

“It’s not that, I just… don’t need to? I get all my energy from my magic, so there’s never been a need, I guess… oh, except the one time I stole a sweet roll from one of the Lords. I had never tasted anything like that so I ran back into the kitchen and stole a whole tray.”

“You ate all of them?” Chrom said with a grin. “How’d that end up?”

“I threw up for an hour afterwards. My dad said it was because my body was rejecting the food but…” 

“It just sounds like you ate yourself sick,” he pointed out. The girl looked in thought, as if she was putting something together. 

“I guess… but I don’t think he’d lie to me about that. I’m not entirely human, so maybe…” she tucked her knees up against her chest and practically disappeared into her massive coat.

“Let’s talk about something else, yeah?” He suggested. “What were you doing back here?”

“Oh, there’s a period of time each day where my dad is busy with something, so I can finally leave the castle without him knowing or getting angry, so I come out here and-”

“Wait, you live in a  _ castle? _ ” Chrom sputtered.

“Uh-huh. It’s a bit deeper into the woods, but… oh, I can’t take you there,” she said apologetically.

“Oh, how come?” Truth be told, he wanted to see it. The castle in Ylisstol was always something he marveled at, even if he rarely got to go to the capital. There was just something about how massive the building was that caught his attention every time. Despite the lack of a royal family, the nobles who lived there did a good job of keeping the place tidy and the surrounding grounds manicured.

“My dad says a lot of… mean stuff about humans, and I don’t think it’d be safe for you there. Plus, in my whole life, there’s only been one visitor and he… well, I never saw him leave the castle, so I have no clue what happened to him,” she pondered.

“Oh, well, that’s probably a good idea for me to stay away, then,” he admitted. “But tell me about it. I’ve only seen one other castle in my life and I  _ bet _ yours is cooler!”

“Well, it’s big. My dad says that some king used to live there a super long time ago, so the whole place is practically falling apart, but the Twelve Lords do their best to keep it from getting worse. There’s a whole ton of rooms, but my dad doesn’t let me go in like, half of them.”

“Well that doesn’t seem fair,” Chrom pointed out. “You live there too, so it’s as much of your castle as it is his.”

“I  _ know _ ! That’s what I say all the time! But Mus always looks off into the distance and murmurs to himself that ‘your father has his reasons,’ or ‘soon it’ll all be yours, my Liege,’ and I  _ never _ have any clue what he’s talking about!”

“Wait, who’s Mus?”

“He’s one of the Lords that lives with us. And he’s by far my favorite, even if he is super weird… Like, ugh, like this one time, I was flying around in one of the hallways, and he turned around the corner and just stared at me. He didn’t even say anything! He just stood there, for like, an hour until I landed. And even then, he just,” her face twisted into something like that of a deep scowl. “Looked like this until I left!”

“That  _ does _ sound weird,” Chrom chuckled. “Did you ask him why he did it?”

“No! But all of the Lords have a staring problem, I swear. Lepus is the worst of them. If I’m sitting out in the courtyard, I’ve seen her looking at me from one of the spires, like, waaaaaay up there. So then, naturally, I fly up and command her to stop, and then she usually screams like I scared her. It’s frustrating, especially because none of them ever want to talk to me, so I just sit around all bored,” she folded her arms in a pout.

“Heh, yeah that doesn’t sound too fun. I feel like I have the opposite problem, where there’s too  _ much _ stuff to do at my home. And it’s always ‘Chrom, go feed the chickens!’ and ‘Chrom, take Cedra and go herd the sheep!’ or ‘Chrom, go with Lissa out into town because we’re all just  _ soooo _ busy and we can’t do it’. It’s frustrating because I have two sisters and neither has to do anything!”

“What’re their names? Your sisters?” 

“Emmeryn and Lissa. I love them and all, but Emmeryn is a bit older and I can’t do anything fun without her worrying for me, while Lissa is too young and bratty to have any fun. So, when I  _ do _ have the free time, I have to go all the way into my village and find my other friends and…” he paused for a moment. “Gods, I can’t even do  _ that _ anymore, because my two best friends are leaving to become stupid knights!” 

“I’m not sure why anyone would want to be a knight,” the girl mumbled. “You’re just cannon fodder at that point, bending to someone else's every whim.”

“I guess I see the appeal, but only in the sense of helping people. But when you’re a knight, you have wars to deal with and stuff like that. I like the heroes of old, the ones who set off on grand quests to slay evil dragons,” Chrom pointed out.

“Ugh, I hate those stories. I always feel bad for the dragon,” she sighed. “Half the time they’re just protecting their home that humans settled on.”

“Okay, but what about Grima? He was super evil and killed a bunch of people, didn’t he?” 

“No!” The girl bristled at the name. “Grima wasn’t evil! It’s so typical of humans to just automatically assume that! He was a great and benevolent dragon who cared for the Plegians, but that she-dragon Naga killed him for no reason!”

“Wait, what? Naga was only protecting Ylisse from Grima and his forces! She laid her life down to protect us, after the Fell Dragon massacred his own subjects. I’m not sure who told you that he wasn’t the stuff of nightmares, but I seriously hope you don’t believe that.”

“No, no,  _ no _ ,” the girl covered her ears. “Stop filling my mind with blasphemy. Grima  _ can’t  _ be evil, because then that means…” her gaze shifted to her hand, where six, purple eyes stared back. Chrom hadn’t noticed it before, which he found odd, considering how striking the mark was.  _ Some kind of tattoo? _ He wondered. Though a girl his age having a tattoo like that didn’t make much sense.

“Hey, hey, calm down! Maybe I  _ am _ wrong. Why don’t we talk about something else?” He suggested, watching the girl continue to fret.

“Ah, er, o-okay. Why don’t you tell me about your friends?” She asked, though she remained tense.

“Oh, of course! So the two who are leaving, Frederick and Sully, they’re super great. Frederick is a year or two older, and he acts like he’s all superior because of that, but he’s the one I feel the most comfortable around. Like I trust him with my life and stuff. And Sully, well, she’s kind of mean to me, but I know she doesn’t mean anything by it. She’s also super strong and stuff. She’s been showing me some pointers when it comes to fighting with lances and swords, which I think is really cool.

“Then there’s Stahl, and he’s… fine. We’re just too different and we have like, nothing in common to talk about. Then there’s this one girl that works at the flower shop in our village with her mother, but I haven’t talked to her enough to get to know her.”

“I can’t imagine a shepherd and a botanist would have much to talk about, either,” the girl joked. 

“Heh, no, I guess you’re right. But that didn’t stop us, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you wouldn’t think a shepherd and a girl with no name would have much to talk about, yet here we are,” Chrom explained. The girl's face twisted from confusion, to understanding, and then finally into a smile. 

“How strange,” she said after a moment of silence. “My dad always said that humans weren’t worth my time. I’m just… I don’t know, I guess I’m shocked how different you are from what he’s told me. And you’re considerably less boring than the Lords back home.”

“Are the Lords not human as well?”

“They are but they’re… Well, they’re  _ too _ weird, you know? I just never considered that anyone else could be like them, I guess,” she tried to explain, though obviously struggled to find the words.

“Well I’m glad that I went above and beyond your expectations!” Chrom exclaimed. 

“I wouldn’t say above and  _ beyond _ , but you definitely aren’t what I expected,” she giggled as Chrom feigned offence. “And, strangely enough, I enjoyed talking to you.”

“I’m glad,” Chrom admitted before adding, “because I like talking with you too.”

The girl smiled at him for a moment, playing with the ends of her hair. She opened her mouth to say something before quickly whipping her head back towards the treeline.

“Someone’s coming. You need to hide,” she urged, grabbing Chrom and his bag and shoving both under the nearest bush. 

“But I-” He tried to say before she shushed him. 

Her gaze fell towards the trees once more, where an audible cracking and snapping of branches could now be clearly heard. Whatever it was, was approaching fast. The girl’s wings flared open, and her hands seemed to crackle with magical energy, or so, that’s what Chrom saw from his partial view.

Suddenly, a figure burst through the forest and into the clearing, wearing a set of particularly fancy robes. What looked like a small mouse was embroidered on the chest, which seemed like quite the odd detail.

“My Liege! What are you doing out here?” The man cried. Chrom siddled under the brush to get a better look, careful not to reveal his position. The man was tall, taller than anyone he had seen before, and sported a head of red hair, with a full beard to match. He held himself stickly, yet the way his voice wavered broke any facade he was trying to convey.

“Mus, what are you doing out here?” The girl asked, irritation lining her voice.

“Your father has been searching the whole castle for you! If he finds out you left again-”

“Which is why he  _ won’t _ be finding out. I’ll head back now and pretend I was taking a nap somewhere. Problem solved,” the girl said, risking a glance towards Chrom’s hiding spot. “I come here almost everyday around  _ this time _ .” She enunciated her words, carefully looking back once again. “Did he finish his studies early?”

“No, milady, you’ve been away for quite awhile, longer than usual. I-”

“Alright, alright. I’ll go back now. Don’t wait up for me, okay?” She said, spreading her wings and springing into the air, leaving Mus by himself. The man sighed, grumbled a string of curses, and followed after the young girl. 

Chrom waited a moment before leaving his spot and exiting the forest. And as he walked back, his mind started to wander. When he was young, his mother always said something about how a pinch of salt meant more than a spoonful of sugar. And in recent days, when it felt all he was getting was spoonfuls of salt, this small, pinch of sugar that was the girl with no name seemed to wash away any melancholy he had been feeling.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I was hit with the realization that I could've formatted this whole story soooo much better with having all these boring prologue scenes right at the beginning, but such is life.


	4. Prologue 4: Birds of a Feather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrom thinks back on his friendship, while in the present, his friend decides that it's time for a name.

As the wyverns skimmed the cool, autumn skies to head south for warmer weather, Ylisse itself changed in accordance. The trees shed their verdant hue for warm reds and yellows, and the farmers finish harvesting their golden fields of produce in preparation for the frigid moons ahead.

Such change reflects itself in both the earth and in the people itself as the terror of Ylissean winter's edge closer and closer. The wyverns had the right idea, leaving to bask in the warm sands of the south, leaving the people to wonder why they couldn’t be as lucky.

Chrom was no different, and he noticed this change in not only himself, but in his friendship with the girl. Months had passed since his first excursion into Mansfell, and the two had grown ever closer. Despite their closeness, she somehow found new ways to surprise him every time he went to visit.

The first surprise came when she was displaying her magical abilities. Chrom was no stranger to magic, considering Emmeryn spent much of her spare time studying the stray magic tome that found its way to their house. But even then, he had watched his older sister struggle to cast low level spells like Elfire or Elthunder, while the girl seemed to break no sweat casting spells into the chilly autumn air.

“Wow…” Chrom had muttered in awe, watching as geysers of fire and jets of electricity weaved between each other. “That’s incredible…”

“Is it?” She had responded, as using magic like that wasn’t impressive. 

“Of course! I didn’t think it was possible to cast two different classes of magic at the same time, let alone without a tome…”

“You mean to tell me that you’re unable to cast spells like this?” 

“Never have been. And believe me, I’ve tried my hardest to summon the smallest ember of flame, or even a puff of wind. But no, nothing,” Chrom had said. And that was the truth. Try as he might, he had never been able to utilize magic. But he felt more comfortable swinging a practice sword around than trying to mess with the magical energy within him, so it was a failure he was more than okay with. 

But the girl was persistent.

“Nonsense!” She had cried. “Everyone can use a little magic!” She then demonstrated the proper ways to stand and to hold oneself so that ‘the magic could conduct itself easier’, as she had put it. But even then, Chrom couldn’t seem to get it.

“Ugh! I’d really need a tome or some other conduit if I’m going to make any progress,” he explained, though the girl only shook her head. 

“Tomes are for those who’re too weak to control their own magic. And I know you aren’t weak, Chrom,” she said with a wave of her hand. That hadn’t been the first time she’d used his name, but it wasn’t often that she did. Maybe it was because of her lack of one, but there was a certain way she said it that brought color to Chrom’s cheeks, though he perished any thoughts that may have weaseled their way into his mind.

“I-I guess not,” he had stammered. “I just don’t think it’s possible-” he had cut himself off when she placed a hand upon his chest. 

“You aren’t weak,” she had emphasized. “You just need a little… help, I suppose? Your heart is racing and you’re breathing too quickly. You’ve got to calm yourself.” He had focused on her words, willing his heart to relax, and took deep, even breaths. “Good,” she had said, pulling her hand away. “Now get into that first stance I showed you.” 

He had obeyed, though the position still felt unnatural. He had tried to will a flame, yet not a single ember had appeared. The girl had growled in frustration behind him, though his focus remained on his hands, so he hadn’t noticed when she touched him on the back. 

Her hand had felt warm, even through the thicker jacket he had been wearing, threatening to throw his breathing out of sync again. But then he had felt the power thrum through her, and in turn, through him.

“I-” was all he had managed to say before a small jet of flame burst out of his hand. 

“See? I told you you could do it!” She had said with a smile. Chrom wanted to smile back, but he was so focused on the feeling of magic. The raw power that he only felt for a fraction of a moment, and then that power surging through him and pooling in the palm of his hand. 

_That_ was what magic was like. It was electrifying, in a way, yet he couldn’t help but imagine the power the girl must’ve had within her. Emmeryn never offered to help him with magic like that, and Chrom guessed it was because she didn’t have the capability to. 

When he returned home that night, he practiced summoning small balls of fire. Frustratingly, that was all he could seem to manage without her help. But the versatility of such magic, even at a small capacity like this, was limitless. 

She surprised him once more when the girl displayed just how quickly her mind worked. Chrom knew she had a knack for thinking out problems and every feasible solution, but it was when he asked her for help in hunting some game for his family that she was able to completely blow him out of the water. 

“So I think I’ll set up snares around this area, if the signs of traffic are fresh,” he had explained, pointing to different parts of the underbrush a little deeper into Mansfell. “How does that sound?”

“I think it sounds like a waste of time,” she had chuckled. “How long do you think it’ll take for an animal to fall for one of those traps?” The girl hadn’t given Chrom time to respond before adding, “If you want any game to take home to your family tonight, you should scrap the snares all together.”

“Then what do you propose we do instead?” He had asked, only slightly irritated. 

“Let me show you.” She had held her hand out for him to take and proceeded to rush through the forest, leaping from every exposed tree root and rock she could to eliminate any noise. Chrom was just barely able to keep up with her, and had it not been for her grip, he would’ve lost her a long time ago. She eventually slowed to stop and rooted her bare feet to the ground, which had given Chrom just a moment to catch his breath. She had urged him to stay low to the ground, and gestured for him to be quiet. Whatever she had planned, he hadn’t been able to predict. Was she going to scare an animal towards his snares? Or take one down by herself? Yet she had no bow, or even a spear to hunt, and using magic to kill game was a one way ticket to getting charred, eviscerated meat.

So he found himself in shock when she lowered herself to the ground and let her wings grow from her back. Her eyes seemed to narrow into slits before she had launched herself into the brush on all fours. All Chrom could hear in the moment was the thrashing of leaves and growling, yet he couldn’t tell if the gutteral noises were coming from the animal or from his friend. 

Eventually her head had popped up from the bushes, and she gave Chrom a smile. A gesture that was soiled by the fact she had had a dead squirrel lodged in her maw. When she had stood up, he found himself shocked, not by the one dead animal, but by the two rabbits she had in her hands.

“Did you… kill these with your bare hands?” He had asked, grimacing only slightly as she dropped the squirrel into his arms.

“And my teeth,” she had grinned, clicking her teeth together as if to prove a point.

“Wait, but how?” Chrom had exclaimed. “How did you manage to catch all three of these without letting one get away?” 

“Well, it was easy, if you considered their behavior and how many escapes they had. Rabbits and squirrels aren’t too smart, so they would’ve taken the closest escape, and I did my best to close both of those off, and then struck in for the kill,” she had explained as if it was no big deal, as if everyone had hunted like a wild animal.

“Okay sure but…” he hadn’t been completely sure how to ask ‘how did you learn to hunt like a wyvern?’ without somehow offending her. So he had decided on, “have you had much practice with this?”

“Oh loads,” she had said with a wave of her hand. “When I’m bored out here, I try and find a rabbit or something to chase.”

“So you just hunt for fun? But I thought you didn’t need to eat?”

“I don’t, but everything has a little bit of magic in them, which is released when they die. I can consume that instead.”

Chrom couldn’t find the words. His new found friends not only killed small animals when she was bored, but all of a sudden she could, what, absorb their magical energy as sustenance? Was that how she was able to use magic so naturally? And was that how Emmeryn hadn’t been able to progress with her magic?

But that simply didn’t make sense, he had _never_ heard of mages or sorcerers having to kill in order to increase their magic output. If that was the case, then his parents would have never even _considered_ letting Emm practice. So was the girl lying to him? Or was she simply something he didn’t fully comprehend?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Chrom?” She waved her hand in front of his face, drawing him from his thoughts. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he responded with a sigh. “Just was thinking about some stuff, I guess.” 

“Hm? Care to share?”

“Well,” he started. “I was just thinking that there’s a lot of things I still don’t know about you, I suppose.”

“That’s true,” she said flatly. 

“And, well, we’ve been friends for a while, right?” 

“That’s also true. I’d say we’re good friends. Great, even.”

“Right, that’s what I was thinking as well. So it’s just… I don’t even have a name to call you,” Chrom admitted. There was so much more he didn’t understand, but a name, somehow, trumped all of them. It was such a simple thing that _everyone_ had, and yet that was a quality his best friend lacked.

“It’s because I don’t have one,” was all she said. 

“I know, that was the first thing you told me when we met but… would you like one?” He asked. She didn’t respond, though she didn’t seem offended by his question. She instead leaned back up against the boulder they sat in front of and sighed. 

“I don’t know… do I deserve one?” 

Chrom was taken aback by her response. “Of course you do! Why would you say something like that?”

“Well, I’ve thought about it before. My father doesn’t call me by anything, and the Lords only call me as ‘My Liege’ or ‘Master’ so maybe… there’s a reason I don’t have one, right?”

“I don’t know. From what you’ve told me, I don’t entirely trust your father. And maybe you shouldn’t either? So maybe he was wrong to not give you a name,” he offered. Her demeanor changed as she seemed to get even more conflicted.

“Well, what does having a name entail?”

“Oh, I mean, I’m not sure how to answer that. I guess it’s just like having an identifier, something other people can call you by?”

“Right, but why is it important? You have a name, Chrom, so what does that mean?”

“Chrom as in the word? I don’t think it means anything,” he admitted. “But it’s the fact that people can call me that and I know they’re talking _about_ me. I _am_ Chrom, and since nobody else I know has had the same name, it’s a part of me. When you first told me you didn’t have a name, I was confused, because it felt like a part of you was missing. For me, at least. I’m assuming you don’t feel the same way since it’s all you’ve known but…” Chrom looked at the girl and caught the look of dejection on her face. “A-ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that! Forget I even said anything!”

“No, no,” she said. “You didn’t say anything wrong. I just… I’ve never thought about it like that. But… It just seems like a person's name has a lot of power, right? You said it yourself that it’s a big part of your identity, so what if you lose a part of yourself? What happens to your name then?”

“Nothing, as far as I know. If something happens in your life, your name doesn’t change. It just becomes another part of you,” he tried to explain, though even he felt a little confused by his own words. “But even then, you can change your name if you feel it doesn’t suit the person you’ve become. And if that happens, it’s still just as powerful as before.”

“I see…” she took a breath. “I think I would like one.”

“Oh, t-that’s good! What do you want me to call you?” He asked with a smile.

“Um… I’m not… sure? What do you think my name should be?” 

“I don’t think I can pick that for you. At least I wouldn’t feel right doing so,” Chrom admitted. Picking someone else's name felt like a very intimate exchange, even if just between friends. And even still, picking your title was such a personal matter, one that he had no business dictating

“Well then,” she said as she got to her feet and walked to the center of the clearing. She gazed around the treeline for a moment before tapping her chin thoughtfully. “What if you called me… ugh, no that’s a terrible name.”

“Have you read any good books? Maybe there’s a character you’d like to name yourself after?” Chrom suggested, thinking through the small list of characters from the few books his sister had read to him.

“Hmm. Well, what about Nyna? I read this story about a queen of old who made a pact with a dark dragon in a bout of grief and…” she paused, only if after catching the look on Chrom’s face. “Okay, maybe that’s a little too sad. Do you have any ideas? Maybe names you like?”

“Well, I’ve always kind of liked the name Lucina? I think it means ‘light’ in some old language, but maybe it fits you?”

“Eh, I’m not a fan,” the girl admitted. “Ugh, is this supposed to be frustrating?”

“I don’t think you have to pick one right now, but-” he was cut off as she tossed a handful of stones into the surrounding trees in anger, only to startle a large flock of songbirds, which all shot out of the treeline and flew directly at the girl.

With a shout of surprise, she swung her hands around to keep the flying terrors away from her. Most of them passed by without any trouble, except for the one that crashed directly into her face. She immediately wrapped her hands around the bird with a yell.

“Augh! I caught the little devil!” She sneered at the animal. Chrom, on the other hand, was doubled over in laughter, failing to retain his composure. “Oh, come on! It wasn’t that funny!”

“Correction, it was _incredibly_ funny!” he howled. 

“Humph! This little cretin is lucky I don’t crush him right now!” She cried, holding the red-breasted bird up for emphasis. 

“Oh, wait, don’t actually hurt him,” Chrom chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye. “He was just frightened.”

“I wasn’t _actually_ going to,” she admitted. “I was just threatening him. I quite like birds, if I'm being honest.” To prove her point, she let the bird perch on her finger, where it seemed to comfortably sit.

“Heh, and it seems he likes you too,” he chuckled. “I will admit, I’ve never seen anyone catch a robin with their bare hands. Though, you did use your face, so maybe it’s less impressive?”

“Oh, ha ha! I _know_ you would’ve been screaming if you were in my position!” She argued, letting the robin hop atop her head. “Alright, time for you to go now, little bird.” The ball of feathers didn’t budge.

“Not sure you’re gonna be able to get rid of your new found robin, Robin,” he teased.

“...what’d you call me?” 

“Oh, I was just joking. I called you Robin because of your _masterful_ capture of the bird on your head.”

“Hmm… I actually kind of like that. Robin…” she said out loud, as if testing the name. 

“Well, you _did_ say you liked birds so…” he droned off as the bird finally flew away to meet the rest of its flock.

“Yeah… I think that’s it. My name is Robin.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so. Next chapter will be the final prologue, and it might be kinda sorta long since I couldn't find a natural place in the prose to break it up (not that I wanted to, 5 chapters of prologue seems like enough). But after that, the real story starts and I actually get to get into what I had planned. But any who, if you enjoy, drop a kudos or a comment letting me know! Or if you have any gripes with the story so far. It's my first multi-chapter fic so I'm always open to suggestions and such!


	5. Prologue 5: For Whom the Bell Tolls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrom would do anything for Robin, even if it meant putting his life on the line to make sure she was safe.

“Chrom, honey, you’ve barely touched your soup. Is everything alright?” 

_ No _ .

“Yes, Mother, I’m okay. Just not too hungry, that’s all,” Chrom responded, absentmindedly pushing the lopsided chunks of venison around in his bowl. Edrea narrowed her eyes in concern, though didn’t push her son further.

Everything was, in fact,  _ not _ okay.

It seemed like just yesterday, Robin had finally picked a name that suited her, bringing the two closer together, despite happening months ago. It seemed like just yesterday, nothing could possibly tear their friendship apart.

That was until the actual events of yesterday, where Robin broke the unfortunate news to him.

“I don’t think we’ll be able to keep meeting anymore,” she had said with a solemn look on her face. He wasn’t quite sure how to respond, if he was honest. Everything had seemed fine up until yesterday, so what had changed?

“I think my father is planning something. Something big, and I don’t want you to get caught up in the middle of it,” was all she said when he pressed for details. His eyes had brimmed with tears, against his wishes, but he made her promise that they would see each other again. A promise which she swore to… so why did it feel like a goodbye?

~*~*~*~*~*~

Emmeryn could tell there was something wrong with her brother. She had never seen him so downcast before, nor had she ever seem him so bluntly unaware of what was going on around him. His eyes were sad, constantly gazing towards the treeline of Mansfell. Did he and Stahl get in a fight yesterday? 

Whatever the issue was, he wasn’t telling. No matter how many times she tried to ask, he simply brushed her off and mumbled to himself, or avoided the question all together. 

There was something about the way he stared off towards the woods, as if something there drew his attention, that made Emmeryn wonder if her brother was actually telling the truth about what happened with those sheep, all those months ago.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Oswin didn’t trust his son. 

Of course, he hadn’t done anything to warrant this distrust. But there was a constant nagging in the back of his head that Chrom was doing  _ something _ under his nose. Edrea never understood, but he didn’t expect her too. But Oswin had  _ been _ a young teenager before. Keeping secrets from your parents was something of a right of passage. And as much as he loathed to admit it, his son was very much like him.

But now, the way his son gazed off towards those damned woods made his blood boil. What could that boy  _ possibly _ find so interesting. There was a reason he forbade his children from entering the very same woods that took his father from him all those years ago, yet Oswin had a sneaking suspicion that his son was hiding something. Something big. Something Chrom  _ knew _ his father would be livid about. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

The first snow of winter hit Ylisse hard. 

Their firewood hadn’t been properly stored, and now sat wet and soggy. Their feed for the livestock was already running low, and worst of all, he found himself snowed in with his family until the blizzard managed to subside.

Yet all Chrom could think about was Robin, and if the Lords were able to keep the castle warm enough for her.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Emmeryn hated winter. She hated snow. She hated how frigid the air was, and she hated how gloomy it made everyone.

And ‘gloomy’ was the last thing her brother needed. He rarely left the house, and when he did, he would spend hours away with Stahl and Sumia.  _ So they must’ve made up, right?  _ Emmeryn concluded.  _ So why is he still miserable? _

~*~*~*~*~*~

When the first snow fell to the ground, Oswin knew his family was in trouble. Without Chrom’s extra set of hands, they were less prepared than normal. And now that his son _ was _ home, he barely did anything other than mope around and play with the dog. He wanted to smack some sense into the boy, but Edrea insisted he was just letting the winter moons get to him.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It had been two months since he had last seen Robin. Chrom chided himself for not being focused on the present, but his mind continuously went back to her. He wondered what exactly her father had been planning, since Robin didn’t seem entirely sure of the details herself. He only prayed that she wasn’t involved.

But the monstrous screams coming from deep within Mansfell concerned him greatly.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Emm, is Chrom okay?” Lissa asked one day. Emmeryn’s gaze fell on her brother, who was leaning over a fence, staring towards Mansfell. He hadn’t moved from that position for at least an hour, if the small pile of snow on his head was any indication.

“Of course,” she said calmly. “Just a case of the seasonal blues, that’s all. Why don’t you go inside and help Mother? I’ll talk to him.” Lissa obeyed, happily bounding into the house as Emmeryn made her way over to Chrom’s side, pulling out a pair of woolen mittens.

“Here,” she said with a smile. “If you’re going to spend the rest of the day out here, you might need these.”

“Thanks…” was all he said, though he gratefully pulled the mittens onto his nearly frostbitten hands.

The two sat for a moment, neither entirely sure of what to say. Emmeryn had a myriad of questions, but couldn’t seem to bring herself to ask any, while Chrom just rubbed his hands together in an attempt to warm them.

“Tell me,” she eventually said. “You come out here every week to gaze off into the distance. What’s so interesting out there?”

“Nothing that you would believe…” he grumbled back.

“Try me.”

Chrom let out a long sigh before giving his sister a hopeful look. “Remember when I told you I had to go into Mansfell to find the sheep?” 

Emmeryn nodded.

“Well, I… met someone in there. A girl, about my age. And after I left, I wanted to see her again because… well, she was weird. And I wanted to see if I could find her again. So I went back, and we ended up becoming friends. Every time I said I was going to hang out with Stahl or Sumia? I was really going back to Mansfell to see her, Emm. But she told me that we couldn’t see each other anymore because her dad was planning something. 

“So I’m just… I don’t know,  _ worried _ , I guess. I don’t want her to get hurt, but…” He took a breath. “I hear those shrieks coming from the woods and I think she might be in trouble, you know?”

“Hmmm…” Emmeryn hummed. It was hard to believe that her little brother managed to survive in the forest, considering all the stories of trained soldiers going in and never coming out. “You think it's her making those noises?”

“I can’t imagine what else it might be. I never saw any creatures in there other than squirrels or rabbits, and she told me about how… cold, her father could be. I wouldn’t put it past him to do something to her. Not to mention that they started just a little after we stopped seeing each other,” he explained, concern lacing his voice.

“I’m sure she’s okay, Chrom.” But even Emmeryn knew she wasn’t very convincing. 

Part of her wanted to brush all this Mansfell nonsense off and do what she could to cheer him up as she normally would… but she knew that reading stories by the fireplace wouldn’t be enough this time. 

Then, an idea came to her. One that caused her heart to thunder in her ears. One that terrified her.

“What if… what if we went to go check on her?”

Chrom looked at his sister in shock. “What?”

“I’d be willing to go with you to make sure she’s okay.”

“But… wait, you mean you believe me?”

“I wouldn’t go as far as to say that. But what I do believe is that my brother is hurting. And I want to help him feel better. And besides,  _ if _ everything you say is true, how dangerous could Mansfell really be?”

A wide smile grew on Chrom’s face, something she hadn’t seen in months. “Yeah… yeah, yeah! Let’s go!”

“Slow your roll, brother. Before we do, we should probably prepare, just in case, right? Especially if something  _ did _ go wrong.” She caught the look on his face before adding quickly, “I-I mean, she’s most definitely fine! But just in case… come with me,” she gestured for him to follow, taking him to the side of the house where she began to remove stacks of firewood. At the bottom of the pile was a long bundle of cloth, with a piece of blue ribbon wrapped around the center. “This was supposed to be your birthday gift for this year but… seeing as we might need it, I figured now would be a perfect time for you to have it.”

Chrom took the wrapped object and hurriedly removed the cloth. Once unravelled, he gasped in awe. 

A sword. One with a shiny, leather grip and a polished iron blade. He had only ever wielded the practise blades at the local smithy, but this… it was gorgeous. 

“Emm… I don’t know what to say.”

“I commissioned the blacksmith to make it. I got to help him a little bit in the process to make it a little more personal,” she said, handing him a rudimentary scabbard. “It’s a replica from one of your favorite books.”

“It’s beautiful but… I’m not entirely sure how to properly use one,” Chrom said with a smile. 

“That’s okay. Just swing it around and pretend you know what you’re doing. That’s what half the knights do anyways. Plus, if we find anyone in there, they’ll think twice about messing with us,” she joked. 

Before they left for the woods, Emmeryn went back inside to grab one of her worn tomes. Their mother looked at her curiously, but before Edrea could say anything, Emmeryn said quickly, “Chrom wants me to show Stahl how to use magic. We’ll be back before it gets dark, okay?” And that was enough for her. Edrea even handed them a wrapped cloth of spare bread in case they got hungry. And with that, they left for Mansfell, snow crunching under their boots and a feeling of dread hanging above them..

As they approached the treeline, Emmeryn stopped in her tracks. Her grip on her tome tightened, and she gave her brother a wary look.

“Emm, if you don’t want to go, you don’t have to,” Chrom reassured. “I’ll probably be fine on my own.” But he sounded unsure, maybe even a little fearful.

“No, it would make more sense for us to both go, just in case something goes wrong, right?” And with a deep breath, she took her first step into Mansfell. Chrom followed, but soon took the lead, leading his sister to the clearing he and Robin met at. Without the thick fog to cloud their vision, it was a lot easier to find their way, and eventually, the trees parted.

The clearing looked quite different from when he had last been there, considering the few inches of snow lay over the ground.

“I’ll admit, it’s quite beautiful here,” Emmeryn eventually said. She walked the perimeter of the clearing, letting out a yelp as her foot suddenly cracked through the ground. “Augh! Gods damn it!” The spring that had once gurgled happily was now frozen over, covered in snow. Chrom rushed over to help his sister pull her now soaked boot out of the frigid water below. 

“We might as well keep moving,” Emmeryn sighed, her brow twitching in annoyance as she tried to shake her boot of any water. “She’ll probably be at her home, right?”

“Right,” Chrom nodded. “Which… if I remember correctly, should be down that way?” He tried to remember which way the man Mus had walked when he came looking for Robin, though considering how long ago that was, his direction was, at best, a guess. 

As the two headed deeper into the forest, small flakes of snow began to fall from the sky.

“Great, like we need any more of that,” Emmeryn sighed, pulling her fur hood over her head. For a moment, they walked in silence, until Chrom stopped, a look of worry washing over his face. 

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

“Did… did we cover our tracks?” 

~*~*~*~*~

Oswin stumbled into the house, kicking his wet, snowy boots off by the roaring fireplace. Without so much as a greeting, he dropped his body down into his chair with a groan. 

“How did it go?” Edrea asked from the kitchen, handing Lissa another potato to peel.

“Poorly. Those damned nobles have no clue what they’re talking about. They want more money, on top of the taxes they already raised last month,” he grumbled, running a hand down his stubbly face. 

Edrea stopped chopping and set the knife down on the table, folding her arms with a sigh. 

“If we can, we can stop buying my medicine for a while,” she offered, only for Oswin to wave his hand.

“Don’t be ridiculous. We aren’t putting you at risk so we can pay the nobles. Gods damn it all, we  _ own _ this land. They can’t charge us for land that’s been in my families for generations!”

“You’re right, but I don’t think arguing with them will change anything.”

Oswin only sighed. Cedra came up to him and tried to jump up on his lap, only to make it halfway and knock her head on his knees. He quickly lifted the puppy up, who seemed to have gotten twice as big over the past few months, and sat her down on his legs. For a moment, the three sat in silence, with only the sound of vegetables peeling and the crackling of fire to fill the void. It would’ve been a silence Oswin appreciated, if it hadn’t been suspicious.

“Where are the other two?” He asked.

“Oh, Chrom wanted Emmeryn to show off her magic to Stahl, so they’re over in the village. Should be back before it gets dark.”

“Ugh, if that boy could focus his attention into his work around the house, maybe we wouldn’t be  _ this _ in debt…”

“Oswin, he  _ has _ been around the house more. If anything, you’re out and about more than he is.”

Oswin's only response was a sigh. He  _ knew _ his son was up to no good, but he couldn’t figure out what. But… his wife did have a point. Chrom had been home a lot more often since winter rolled around. Maybe he was  _ too _ harsh on him.

A quick knock drew everyone’s attention to the doorway where Stahl stood, another small bag clutched in his hands.

“Hello ma’am, I have your medicine,” he said cheerfully.

“Thank you, honey. Come inside and set it on the table. Why don’t you stay and warm up a bit?” Edrea offered. “You could stay for dinner if you wanted?”

“Oh, thank you, but I have to get back to my father. He’s close to a break through with this weird seaweed he bought from the merchants and I’ve been helping him out all day.”

“That sounds nice… wait. Are Chrom and Emmeryn not with you?” Edrea turned to face the young boy, who only shook his head.

“No, I haven’t seen them all day. Did something happen?” 

Oswin stood up out of his chair, grumbling a string of curses. 

“No, it’s just… they said they were with you today? Emm grabbed her tomes before she left to show you magic…” Edrea pondered

Stahl’s face fell. “I-I mean, of course! I w-was just, um, with them! Haha! I must’ve… misheard… you,” he trailed off as Oswin approached him with thundering steps.

“Where are my children?”

“I don’t know, sir. That’s the truth!”

“How many times have you seen him this year? All those times Chrom told us he was with you… where was he  _ really _ ?” He sneered.

“I-I… I don’t know!” 

Oswin responded by grabbing Stahl by the collar of his shirt and lifting him above the ground, while Lissa screamed in the background.

“Put him down, Oswin!” Edrea commanded.

“Not until this little  _ cretin _ tells me where my lying, sniveling son is!”

“H-he might be in Mansfell!” Stahl finally yelled, his grip on Oswin’s arms tightening. “I know he used to go there sometimes, but I don’t know if he’s there now!”

Stahl thumped to the floor as Oswin angrily put his soaked boots back on. His eyes fell above the fireplace to the mantel, where a beautiful, ornate sword hung above. It was a family weapon, one that had been with his for generations. Without a second thought, he ripped the sword from the mantel, shards of wood showering down from the shattered backplate.

“Oswin!” Edrea tried to call, but he was already charging out the door, where his eyes locked on two sets of footprints that were undoubtedly headed for Mansfell woods. 

~*~*~*~*~

“It’s probably fine,” Emmeryn said with a wave of her hand. “Are you sure this is the right way?”

“I’m pretty sure… my friend had a bunch of vassal’s that looked out for her, and one of them headed this way,” Chrom responded, though still he wasn’t entirely confident. 

“Vassal’s? What was she, royalty?” She joked.

“Maybe? She said she lived in a castle…”

“Wait, there’s a castle in Mansfell?” 

“I don’t know! She never took me there because her dad was crazy or something,” Chrom snapped.

“Alright, alright. Why don’t you tell me about her? Your friend?”

“Oh, right. Well, her name is Robin and she’s like, super smart. She helped me catch a lot of the game I brought home because she knew all the best places to set up snares and hunt. And she’s funny, too! And…” he paused before giving Emmeryn a look. “Nevermind, you wouldn’t believe this next part.”

“Oh come on, Chrom, just tell me.”

“She had wings. Like, six of ‘em.”

“Considering we’ve made it this far into the woods that are apparently ‘super dangerous’, I’m inclined to believe you.”

“Well, good, because I’m telling the truth! Oh, and she was also super good at magic. Way better than you, at least. She could cast spells without needing a tome.”

“Really?” Emmeryn raised a brow at her brother. “That’s impossible as far as I know.”

“It isn’t! She even showed me how!” He stopped walking to get into the position she had shown him months ago. It took a moment, but a small ember of flame appeared in his palm. “See? I’ve been practicing so I can do stuff like this!” He let the ember float away from his hand and settle in the air next to him. “It’s like a magic candle!”

“Chrom, that’s… really impressive. At least for you,” Emmeryn teased, though her gaze remained on the trees around them. They had stumbled into another clearing where it was considerably darker than the rest of the forest. “Gods, it must be getting late…” 

He wouldn’t say it outloud, but this section of the forest felt much different than before. It was like the air here weighed down on him, like it was threatening them to stay away, much like his first visit.

A branch snapped, somewhere within the woods, but it was too dark for him to see anything. He suddenly felt his sister’s hand grip his shoulder and bring him closer to her. He followed her gaze towards the treeline, where a pair of red dots stared them down, like a pinprick on the pad of a finger. 

They weren't unlike his flame, small and flickering, but they seemed to be  _ too _ still. Like they were fixed to a position. 

Then, his sister gasped. She had her eyes locked on another pair of dots, on the opposite side of the clearing. Chrom whipped his head around, watching as more and more pairs appeared until he lost count. His heart hammered in his chest. What were these things? He willed his tiny flame to get closer, in hopes of seeing what these were, only for it to pewter out not a second later.

“El…” Emmeryn murmured as she thumbed through the pages of one of her tomes. “Elfire!” A ball of mage fire shot from her outstretched hand and into the trees. As it flew past, the faces of two figures were lit up. Chrom’s heart dropped. He truly didn’t expect to see anyone else here, nevermind people with glowing red eyes.

One of them stepped out into the clearing, where the moon was able to illuminate their face. They were male, or appeared to be. and wore heavy plates of ornate armor. They wielded a silver lance, one that matched the style of their armor. Chrom would’ve appreciated their style more if the person's face hadn’t caught him off guard. Along with their piercing red eyes, the man’s skin seemed to be devoid of any color. It was cracked and grey, as if they had been buried for a month, but then reanimated and forced to live once more.

“Ch… Ch-Chrom,” Emmeryn stammered. “I think… this was a b-bad idea.”

He was inclined to agree as more of the figures stepped into the clearing. They were silent it seemed, save for the snapping of branches and the crunch of snow. But they made no sound, not a grunt nor breath escaped their lips.

They were surrounded, on all sides, by these grey faced soldiers, each of which carried a varying array of weapons and armor. Some dressed in mage robes, others with decorated longbows, and others still who looked as if they were dressed in riding armor.

“I think you’re right…” he whispered back. The soldiers did nothing, save for staring at the siblings. A gust of wind buffeted through the leafless trees above, sending a chill down Chrom’s spine. What were they doing?

But then, another person seemed to approach, coming from the direction they were headed to. A tall, black haired man appeared, dressed in a style of robes he had never seen before. Large swaths of fabric appeared to be missing from his garb, allowing much of his torso to be exposed to the freezing air. His skin was close in color to the surrounding grey faces, though his eyes showed signs of life, unlike the surrounding soldiers. A wicked grin grew across his face, which was framed by a sharp, black goatee.

“Well, well, well,” he spoke, his voice deep and grovely. “Two young mortals lost in my forest. Tell me, children: what brings you to a place like this?”

“F-forgive us, sir,” Emmeryn tried to ground herself, but her grip on her tomes faltered. “We meant no disrespect… me and my brother were just trying to pass through and, er… go home.”

“Siblings, I see. How quaint,” the man chuckled. “You there, boy, tell me. What is the  _ real _ reason you’re here? Your sister is a poor liar.” 

“We… we came looking for my friend,” Chrom mumbled. 

“A friend you say? Well, dear children, I’m afraid nobody has entered my forest and lived to tell the tale. Your friend, whoever they were, is long gone.”

“Y-yes! Quite right, sir! If you’d excuse us, we were just trying to leave!” Emmeryn urged Chrom to follow, but his gaze was too fixated on the man in front of them. He spoke with a thick accent, one that he had never heard before, and his clothes were adorned with a series of eyes, stitched together in a pattern… an all too familiar pattern. 

The moonlight barely illuminated the scene, but Chrom could swear that the man bore a brand on his forehead. A brand all too similar to Robin’s mark on her hand, though his seemed faded and worn. 

“Chrom, what are you doing?!?” Emmeryn whispered through gritted teeth. “We need to go,  _ now _ -”

“Sir… my friend was about my age. She had long, white hair, and a coat with similar markings to your robes… are you sure you haven’t seen her?” Chrom asked, raising a brow in suspicion, all the while Emmeryn tried to urge him to leave.

“A lot of mortals crawl through my forest, boy. You can’t expect me to remember them all,” the man said with a wave of his hand. 

“She had wings.”

“Oh ho! I suppose I  _ do _ know who you’re referring to,” the man chuckled once more. “Your friend is  _ my _ daughter.”

Chrom was taken aback. He had never expected Robin’s father to look like  _ that _ . But if what he said was true… he must’ve known where she was.

“And do you know where she is? I’m quite worried for her.”

“Ah… I suppose this all makes sense.  _ You’re _ the human who’s been filling her mind with frivolous concepts that have clouded her judgement. Though, I suppose if you’re  _ that _ curious as to have come all this way… she’s dead. Your friend, my daughter, it matters not. She’s gone.”

~*~*~*~*~

_ I’m going to wring that boy's throat when I find him, _ Oswin thought bitterly to himself. The snow had begun to fall once more, inconveniently covering his children’s tracks. 

He had barely made it into the gods forsaken woods and he was already turned around. If only he had trusted his gut and found out about his son’s escapades sooner, then maybe he wouldn’t be risking his life to try and rescue them from whatever demons they were soon to come face to face with. 

But this situation felt all too familiar. Many years ago, he’d been in the same place as his son, a young, naive child who journeyed too far into the woods. His father had to come rescue him, but never returned. At least then, Oswin had only put himself in danger. But no, Chrom somehow convinced Emmeryn to come along with him. 

He just hoped he would find them before something else did.

~*~*~*~*~

“Dead?” Chrom repeated. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“Oh, it’s quite simple, child. She was sacrificed on the altar of our deity. My daughter was very adept with magic, and thus, was incredibly powerful. The very same power that took to awaken our God,” the man explained, seemingly unfazed.

“Y-you killed your own child?” Chrom argued, his heart dropping. Robin  _ couldn’t _ be dead. She… she made a promise that they would see each other again. 

“Well, if we’re speaking technically, then  _ I _ personally didn’t. The Fell Dragon simply required her magic to fully awaken, and as a god should, he took as he pleased.”

“The Fell Dragon? You don’t mean-”

“Grima? The very same. I don’t expect a child to understand the merits of what I’ve accomplished, but soon enough, all of Ylisse will know my name as the one who brought their downfall.”

“And… w-what is your name?” Chrom asked, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword.

“Oh, I suppose it is human custom to know the name of your opponent. You may call me Validar, child,” he said with a grin. “Don’t think I didn’t see you grip your sword, boy.”

“Chrom, don’t act like a hero, we need to go  _ now _ !” Emmeryn yelled.

“But he… he killed Robin, Emm! I can’t… I can’t let him go…” Chrom cried back, his eyes filling with tears. 

“Oh, enough of this! Why do humans have to be such emotional creatures? It would make this next part  _ much _ faster if we could do without the crying!” Validar cackled. 

“T-there’s not going to  _ be _ a next part!” Emmeryn cried, opening the pages of her tome. “Elthunder!” A ball of electricity shot out of her hand and struck Validar in the chest, sending him skidding back through the snow. What would’ve at least left a burn mark or wound on a normal person left nary a scratch. 

“Humph! Your presence is an eyesore. How fortunate for you that your life will be coming to end at the hands of My Lord!” He cried, which seemed to echo through the trees. As if his cry awoke it, a sharp, inhuman cry cut through the air. The trees shook, the ground quaked.  _ Something _ was coming. If it really was Grima, Chrom didn’t want to stay and find out.

He grabbed Emmeryn’s hand and pulled her to the end of the clearing, only to have the Grey Faces block their exit with their weapons. Chrom ducked into a roll, losing his grip on his sister and rolled under their blockade.

With a quick glance back, he watched as Emmeryn was pushed back by the Grey Faces, a look of terror on her face.

“Emm!!” He shrieked, stepping back towards her.

“No, Chrom! Run! Go get help!” She urged, sending another blast of magic at her undead captors. His heart hammered in his ears as he took slow steps back. He could hear Validar cackle once more as the trees seemed to collapse behind him as something pushed its way through, though Chrom didn’t stick around to see what it was.

~*~*~*~*~

_ Oh gods, oh gods, oh GODS _ ,  _ what  _ is _ that!?  _ Emmeryn thought, finding herself unable to speak. She was paralyzed in fear at whatever this  _ monster _ was in front of her, unable to even scream. She tried to will herself to send another blast of magic, but her whole body rejected the notion. 

Even if she  _ could _ move, what could she do against a monster of that caliber?

~*~*~*~*~

Oswin’s head whipped in the direction of the scream. He’d been hearing such primal noises for months… but that sounded much to close for his liking. He broke into a sprint, cutting his way through as many trees as he could, trying to follow the noise.

What made such an inhumane scream, he could only imagine. He prayed that whatever it was hadn’t found his children.

As he ran, the snowfall began to lighten, but the forest became much darker. He kept his sword at his side, straining his ears to follow something -  _ any  _ sort of noise. He was focusing on the background noise so intensely, he didn’t notice the charging mass headed his way until it barreled into his stomach, sending him sprawling to the ground. 

“Gahhhh,” Oswin groaned, rolling over to see the face of his attacker, only to his son’s face, beat red and covered in tears. “Chrom!?”

“F-father!” His son cried. “I-we, I’m so sorry! I-”

“Enough! Where is your sister?” He demanded, struggling to his feet. Chrom pointed back the direction he had run from.

“Sh-She’s back there, she told me to run, but there’s something awful back that way, father!”

“Gods damn her… Boy, go home and tell your mother. Tell the guard, tell  _ someone _ . I’ll deal with you once this is all over with.” And with that, he stormed off to find his daughter.

~*~*~*~*~

Chrom let the tears fall as the cold tree branches whipped at his face. _How could I be so_ stupid!? He scolded himself. _This is all my fault, all my fault. Emm’s going to die, father’s going to die!_

His legs kept him going, as fast as they could. He, soon enough, passed through the first clearing, meaning the treeline wasn’t too far away. Would the village guards even believe him? Gods, what was his mother going to say? Despite the consequences, whatever they were, he wouldn’t give in. He would make it to his village.

For Emmeryn’s sake.

For Robin’s.

~*~*~*~*~

All she could feel was pain. Bone breaking, head smashing pain. It felt as if her very soul was being ripped from her body, and the spear impaled in her torso wasn’t helping. How Emmeryn was still alive, if only barely, was beyond her. 

Her head dropped, having lost all strength to keep it up. All she could see was her own blood splashed into the white snow below. A staggering red against the stark white. 

Red and white.

She hoped Chrom was safe.

Red and white.

White and red.

She fell to the ground. 

White and red.

White.

Just white. 

~*~*~*~*~

Oswin came too late. His daughter’s body, limp in the snow. A cackling wizard, a horde of undead soldiers. A monster with six glowing red eyes. Before he knew it, his hand was on his sword, charging at the wizard, who evaded each swing. He didn’t even fight back. The wizard only laughed at him. Laughed at his pain, at the loss he faced. Laughed at how futile his fight was. 

Gods, what could he do against this man? 

As he shifted his weight, something stuck out on the inside of his jacket.

He dropped his sword and pulled a worn scroll from inside and quickly broke the wax seal on the outside. He pulled the magic from the spell inside and felt it course through his body. 

When he had been given this scroll at the market in exchange for a bag of wool, Oswin initially laughed at the mage who gave it to him. But since then, he had kept it on his person since, for no other reason than his own forgetfulness. 

But there was no time like the present, he thought.

It was a gamble, in all honesty. Oswin had never been good at magic, though he had tried to learn. But he had no other cards to play. The soldiers were closing in, the monster only stared with primal intent. It was a risk he was willing to take. It had to be.

“Bolganone,” he whispered. An inferno of fire erupted from his body, threatening to burn him from the inside, but he managed to keep himself grounded. The undead soldiers seemed to dislike the fire, if their crawling away back into the trees was any indication. The wizard in front of him only scowled before retreating as well. 

But the monster only stared at him. The fire had no effect on it, it seemed, as it lowered its massive head towards his daughter's body.

Oswin lost control of the spell as he rushed to Emmeryn, hoping to beat the monster to her. His hands landed on the woolen green scarf she had been wearing as the monster snapped its jaws around the rest of her. The scarf came loose and fluttered to the ground as the monster threw its head back and swallowed his daughter’s body whole.

He was in shock. Emmeryn, devoured in front of him. He almost had half the mind to mourn her, if the arrow landing too close to him for comfort hadn’t ripped him out of his thoughts. Oswin was still in danger, and these soldier’s weren’t going to let him escape without giving him hell.

~*~*~*~*~

The look on the guard’s face had been one of bewilderment, if not also terror. Hearing that not one, not two, but  _ three _ people had charged into Mansfell, and one of them was standing in front of them, somehow  _ alive _ had to have been shocking. But if Chrom’s sobbing hadn’t convinced them, the whirlwind of fire they had seen emerge from the canopy of trees definitely had. 

Chrom just wished he hadn’t been too late.

~*~*~*~*~

Oswin’s grip on his daughter’s scarf weakened, but he still held on to it for dear life. The arrows lodged in his shoulder were slowing him down, and the javelin that scratched his side burnt like hell. His head felt dizzy, and his vision blurred as it threatened to throw him unconscious. His jacket felt warm and wet to the touch, indicating that there were more wounds he simply didn’t see.

But he still had a son to yell at.

If that was the motivation he needed, then damn it all, that’s what he would tell himself.

~*~*~*~*~

Chrom watched in anticipation at the end of their fields as the guards approached the edge of the forest. He had done his best to give them directions, but he was in hysterics when he gave them, so their accuracy was… questionable. But they were apprehensive to enter, which made him want to shout. His family was  _ dying _ , and they were too cowardly to enter.

He could feel his mother’s gaze bore into his back, but he didn’t have anything to say to her that wasn’t a profuse apology. 

All he could do was pray that soon enough, he would see his father enter with Emmeryn by his side, both unscathed. As if they had somehow escaped without any injury. 

“Chrom?” Lissa’s voice called to him through the snow. “Are you okay?”

“No, Lissa. I’m not. Emm and Father might be hurt really bad and it’s all my fault…” he mumbled, trying to hold back his tears.

“Emm’s real strong though… I’m sure she’ll be okay,” she tried to reason. But Lissa was too young to understand the gravity of the situation. Hell, Chrom would’ve been too if he hadn’t been stuck in the middle of it all.

He opened his mouth to respond, only to snap his attention to the edge of the forest, where some sort of commotion was going on.

He hopped off the fence he’d been sitting on and rushed over, without a care of what the guards had to say. As he got closer, he could see his father’s blue hair but… where was Emmeryn?

“Father!” He screamed, rushing up to him, only to be pushed to the ground. His father was seething, or would have been if he wasn’t wincing in pain. 

“You…” he started. “You not only  _ lied _ to me, but you deliberately disobeyed my orders!” Oswin let out a hacking cough, not caring about the blood that splattered to the ground. The guards tried to hold him back, but he somehow struggled out of their grasp and stumbled to Chrom and picked him up by the collar. “You’re sister is  _ dead _ . That scarf was all I could salvage… I… you… fault…” Oswin trailed off. Chrom struggled in the air, his legs kicking against the arrows that were still lodged in his father.

Chrom fell to the snow, along with his father, who’s eyes had rolled into the back of his head. Some of the guards quickly grabbed his body and hauled him away, leaving the rest to wonder how to console the young teenager who still sat on the ground.

His hands drifted towards Emmeryn’s scarf, which Chrom pulled close to his chest. One of the guard’s said something to him, but nothing registered. He simply let himself be pulled off the ground and led back into the village. The commotion of the village blended together, Whether it was his body refusing to listen or he himself just choosing not to didn’t matter to Chrom.

His family was broken, battered and torn at the seams. 

His friend was dead, and a monster was loose in the forest.

And somehow, it was all his fault.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter was what everyone hoped for! Also I think I'm going to be updating this every Sunday, maybe every two. I've got a few chapters backlogged already but as soon as I catch up with myself, the update schedule might get a little more erratic. Also there's a few lore points that we're going to get into in the next few chapters, so I can finally flesh out this little AU world I've got cooking in my mind. But anywho, feel free to drop a kudos or a comment if you liked it!


	6. The Times They are a Changin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot can change over ten years. Maybe a little too much. On top of frequent raids, talk of old dragon attacks spring up, much to someone's dismay...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I want to apologize beforehand if this chapter seems a little bit rushed. I had plans for a sort of interlude chapter in between the prologue and this time skip, but that chapter ended up getting scrapped (mainly cause it didn't work in the narrative as well as I wanted to). I also had been struggling to write this chapter for a while since it's a bit boring and just kinda exists to set up where the characters are and such. 
> 
> But I swear that this story will pick up very soon, it's just these plot moving chapters I've got to get through, so thank you for bearing with me :)

**Ten Years Later...**

Chrom’s sword pierced through the chest of a nearby marauder, while he jammed his elbow into the neck of another. Sweat beaded at his hairline despite the chill in the air, and the bandit before him slid off his blade into the fresh snow below. 

He turned his gaze to Cedra, fighting beside him, who currently had her jaws locked around a berserker’s hand. Even Lissa swung her healing staff into the stomach of another, knocking the wind out of him. Chrom locked eyes with the supposed leaders of the bandits, though one of his was swollen shut after a thief decided that their dagger wasn’t enough and punched him in the face. 

Their leader gave out a sputtering sigh as he looked over his decimated party before reluctantly giving the single. The rest of the bandits scurried back into the snowy hills, though Cedra gave chase and nipped at their heels until they were well away from the farm. 

Chrom ran a gloved hand through his hair and staggered back into the house. They had just sat down for dinner when one of the sheep let out a terrified bleat from their enclosure. He and Lissa had rushed outside to see the damned marauders with some of their livestock slung over their shoulders, while others tried to drag the younger animals away by their feet.

In any other world, Chrom would’ve compromised and offered for a trade. Hell, he may have even given the party an animal or two if they were desperate enough.

Unfortunately, that was not the world they were living in. The past few years had been detrimental for the farmers and laborers of Ylisse, with blistering summer heatwaves and record temperatures. Rain scarcely fell, but when it did, it came in droves, flooding fields and destroying crops. 

Winters had been characteristically harsh, but the earth seemed to freeze for twice as long, meaning it didn't thaw until well into spring, much past the planting season. 

Needless to say, a scarcity of resources was the perfect breeding ground for bandits and other sorts of thieves. It was the main reason Chrom had taught himself how to wield the blade his eldest sister had given him all those years ago. Well, it was either that or paying exorbitant amounts of money from the Knights of Ylisstol for protection, and he and Lissa just didn’t have the funds.

Some said that when Naga fell a millenia fighting the Fell Dragon, her body dissipated and blessed Ylisse with rich, fertile soils. So much so that even the ancient deserts of Plegia had been whipped away in a storm of foliage. 

But many assumed that the Divine Dragon’s bounty was simply fading away. Or that Ylisse wasn’t as pious as it used to be, and the disastrous seasons had been a punishment from the gods. 

Chrom wasn’t sure what to believe. Stories of Naga had been some of his favorites when he was a child, but they were just that: stories. He had no room to give into childish naivety, not anymore. And gods know where that got him in the past.

“Chrom…” Lissa started as soon as they entered the house. “I think we should really consider paying someone to protect our sheep.” As soon as he sat, she pulled a chair next to him and began the process of healing his wounds he had earned in their most recent fight.

“You know we can’t afford that,” he responded. “I think you, me and Cedra do a well enough job at fighting anyone off.”

“Is that what you call ‘well enough’?” She glared, gesturing to his black eye. “Chrom, if that had been a dagger…”

“I know. I would’ve lost an eye, but luckily it wasn’t. And now I know to watch out for it next time.”

“There might not _be_ a next time if you keep throwing yourself in the way of every attack!” Lissa took a shaky breath. “Chrom… we already lost mom. I can’t lose you either.”

She let her eyes well with tears, but she didn’t dare let them fall.

“Lissa, I’m sorry,” he eventually said. “I just… I don’t know what I’m doing. And I guess pretending like everything is okay is my way of, I don’t know, coping? With how hard this had been, I mean.”

“Hey, if you don’t know what you’re doing, then I know even less,” she sniffed as she cracked a smile. “But we’re in this together, right? You, me and Cedra.”

As if on cue, the brown shepherd dog bounded her way into the house. She shook out her wet fur, spraying water all over the furniture before walking over to Lissa. Cedra sat her head in her lap, tail wagging, and dropped whatever she had been holding, and unfortunately for Lissa, it had been a human finger.

“Ah, _gross!_ ” She yelped and jumped seemingly three feet into the air. “Bad dog!”

“Cedra is just as protective of the sheep as we are, it seems. Couldn’t let those bandits go without punishing them, huh?” The dog barked in response before snatching the finger back up and dashing outside.

“Gods only know what she’ll do with that,” Lissa sighed before sitting down to finish healing. “Now hold still, we’re almost done.”

The next morning, Chrom bundled up in as many layers as he had before heading out to the village square. The air nipped at his exposed nose as he passed by houses and abandoned market stalls until he reached his destination. 

He gave a quick pull on the wooden handle of the shop and stepped inside, revealing in the warmth that seeped through him. A small bell chimed above him, notifying the shop owner of the potential customer, and he approached the counter.

“Just a minute!” A voice called from the back, followed by the crash of what sounded like several flower pots.

“Take your time, Sumia!” Chrom responded, unraveling his layers of scarves as he leaned over to smell one of the small displays of winter flowers. 

“Oh! H-hello!” Sumia cried as she peered from around the back. “I seemed to have, er, made quite the mess back here!” As if to emphasize her point, she held up an armful of shattered clay pots.

“Let me help you clean up, then!” He insisted, removing his larger coat. Sumia instantly dropped the pots to the ground once more with a look of embarrassment on her face.

“N-no! That’s quite alright, Chrom. You don’t have to. W-what brings you in today?” She quickly changed the subject as she tied a rose embroidered apron around her waist.

“Lissa and I were going to visit our families graves and we were thinking of bringing flowers,” he said, though as he peered around the store, he noticed that most of the buckets and displays remained empty. In fact, the only flowers seemed to be the ones he had just admired.

“Y-yes, that’s very sweet of both of you. Unfortunately, my greenhouse was… destroyed in the last raid. So most of my flowers have frozen or were trampled. B-but! I do have these wonderful crocuses!” She tried to put a smile on her face as she gestured to the tiny, violet blossoms. “They can handle the snow, so they’re really all I have right now.”

“I’ll take them, then,” Chrom responded with a genuine smile. Sumia quickly came around the counter to get his flowers ready, working with expert hands to tie the flowers in a small arrangement. 

“Here we are… I hope it’s enough for your mom. And - wait, what happened to your eye?” She stopped mid sentence to gesture to Chrom’s black eye.

“Oh, just a little bruise I got fighting in the raid. Lissa wanted to heal it more but it’ll go away on its own soon enough.”

“Hmm, you need to be more careful,” Sumia’s fingers traced the outline of his eye. “This looks really bad…”

“R-right you are. But like I said, I’ll be okay.” Her touch lingered for just a moment before the bell chimed once more and the door swung open.

“Hey Sumia, I wanted to ask about-” Stahl stopped as he entered the store. “Oh, hey Chrom. Er… am I interrupting something?”

“N-no! I just-” Sumia tried to say, only for Chrom to stutter a response at the same time.

“-She was checking my eye-”

“-I was worried, that was it-”

“-so it wasn’t-”

“-like that-”

“-at _all._ ” they both finished at the same time. Stahl let out a stifled chuckle as he walked over and clapped a hand on both of their shoulders.

“I’m just teasin’ you both. There’s no need to hide your secret love affair from me!” 

This earned a moment of indignant squabbling from both Chrom and Sumia, until the apothecary raised his hand. “Sorry, sorry! I couldn’t help myself. I just came to ask if you had any winter pansies hiding in the back of your shop, Sumia.”

“Oh, hmm… I believe so. What do you need them for?”

“Ugh, it’s a long story. Basically, there’s an older man who lives right next door to my shop who keeps having hallucinations of that huge dragon that was terrorizing villages a few years back. My dad used to say that pansies can help mellow out the brain, and I thought it might help him. But if I’m being honest, I just want to get this guy to stop talking about it to me!” 

Sumia laughed along with Stahl all the while Chrom’s blood went cold.

Dragon attacks were rare, if nonexistent. And even when the scarce feral dragon _did_ attack, they went for livestock mostly. People almost never got hurt.

That’s what made this dragon so much different. 

It seemingly killed for sport, finding the smallest, most defenseless towns to go after, before wiping them off the map. Every living thing inside the barricaded walls of those towns had been destroyed, eaten or decimated, it didn’t matter.

Chrom had a sneaking suspicion he knew this dragon. The same one that he almost came face to face ten years ago.

Grima.

He was back, he _had_ to be. That’s what had been making those noises coming from Mansfell. The damned Fell Dragon, of all things. Validar, or whatever his name was, had been telling the truth.

The scarce reports of what the beast actually looked like fit the bill, too. Twisted horns, glowing eyes, and feathery wings. 

But those reports stopped coming in years ago. At one point, this new dragon was the talk of the town. There was news that the Knights of Ylisstol were going to eradicate the dragon, until most of them chickened out. Then they decided that moving the capital city may have been a better plan.

But then… it seemed to have vanished. No longer did it devour everything in sight. No longer did it bring destruction wherever it. It was just… gone. No doubt lurking in whatever cave it called home. The final reports say they saw it return into Mansfell, though nobody would dare check.

Now there was something to fear in those woods. Something Chrom shuddered at the thought of ever seeing. He had felt the quakes it brought as it approached. He had heard it's shrieks. But he had never _seen_ the beast. 

_For the better,_ he thought to himself.

“Chrom?” Stahl said as he waved a hand in front of the blue haired man’s face. “You spaced out a bit. Everything alright?”

“Y-yeah… could we change the subject?”

“What, don’t tell me you’re afraid of that dragon?”

Sumia shot him a glare, one that Stahl seemingly couldn’t decipher. 

“I wouldn’t say I’m afraid just… uncomfortable.”

“Alright, alright. Sorry about all that, then. Sumia, could I get those flowers?”

Chrom didn’t stick around to see the pansies his friend requested, nor did he actually pay for his own arrangement. _I’ll just pay her when I see her again. She’s forgiving like that,_ he reasoned with himself.

As he walked back to his own house, his gaze fell on the treeline of Mansfell, as it often did. A knot formed in his stomach, his palms clammed up. Even the mere mention of that damned forest would send him into a state of panic. 

His grip on the crocuses tightened. He was a grown man. A little patch of woods shouldn’t have terrified him like this. _But it’s not just terror,_ a little voice in the back of his head whispered. _It’s guilt._

He promised himself that he would move past everything that happened. He should’ve never gone back into that forest, but he _did_ , and what happened had already been written into history. Chrom just didn’t like that he was the author. 

Before he knew it, he was back at the front door of his house. A pair of heavy footprints lead up the door, ones that he didn’t recognize. He knew that Lissa certainly didn’t leave them… so who could their visitors be?

He pushed the door open to their house and nearly lost the grip on the crocuses.

Two knights stood in the middle of their home, both clad in riding armor which was branded with the insignia of the Knights of Ylisstol Chrom immediately assumed the worst before one of them turned around. 

A stern faced man locked eyes with him, before letting a slight grin grow across his face. The other knight, who ran a hand through her fiery red hair gave him a cheerful look.

“Guess who’s back!” Lissa cheered from behind them.

Frederick and Sully had returned after years of absence. What would normally be a moment to celebrate had Chrom’s head spinning instead.

His old friends were back alright.

But all he could wonder was why?

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I've also got to mention this (since I'm a dumbass and never found a super great place to talk about it in the story), but Plegia basically doesn't exist. It's more of a fallen kingdom sort of deal, collapsing after Grima's defeat a thousand years ago. Validar and Robin had more or less been the last Plegians and the Grimleal, but since Robin's gone... Validar is all that's left (...?). 
> 
> Anywho, as I said earlier, I feel kind of bad about having last chapter full of such high stakes and leaving ya'll with this more slice of life kinda deal. As always, thank you all so much for reading (cause it really means a lot to have anyone take time out of their day to check my work out!), and let me know what you thought or if you have any gripes with the story! Any feedback is appreciated!


	7. Unnecessary Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old friend clash with new feelings, and Chrom just isn't quite sure how to deal with that.

The Knights of Ylisstol.

Two of them stood in his house.

He should’ve been happy, if only to see his friends.

But the insignia they bore… made his blood boil.

For years, Chrom and Lissa had been beset by bandits every other day. The knights that used to patrol the outskirts of their village sat idly by, waiting for someone to pay them enough coin to get off their arse and take care of the problem.

Eventually, everyone stopped paying, and so their small village, while vulnerable, wasn’t making the knights anymore money. So they left. They left with their tails between their legs and hid away in Ylisstol with the other damned nobles who refused to help.

“What brings you both here? After all these years?” Chrom asked with a scowl as he set his flowers on a nearby table.

“What? We can’t stop by to our old friends just to say hi?” Sully joked as she placed a heavy arm around his shoulder.

“Well, knights don’t normally come to villages like this unless they’re looking to make a quick bag of coin,” Chrom noted, carefully maneuvering himself out of her grasp.

The room went silent for a moment, the only sound being that of Cedra’s panting. Sully gave him a hurt look before Lissa cleared her throat.

“Well, whatever your reason, we’re glad to see you!  _ Right _ , Chrom?” She hissed, giving her brother a stern look. He only glared back.

“Oh, of course. How rude of me. What’s it been? Nine, no,  _ ten _ years since we last saw you too? My apologies for acting like something has changed!” 

“Chrom, are you feeling alright?” Frederick finally spoke, giving his friend a concerned glance. 

“Just peachy.” 

“Welllll, look at you guys in your snazzy armor! I don’t know how I could stand to wear those during a patrol!” Lissa said, diverting the attention.

“That’s what I thought too, at first! But you know, after ten years you practically grow into it!” Sully let out a laugh, though her gaze kept setting on Chrom, who was leaned up against the mantle of the fireplace, arms crossed.

Lissa gave him a sidelong glare before grabbing him by the elbow. 

“Excuse us for a moment! I’ve got to have a talk with my brother, who is acting  _ completely _ immature,” she gave a fake laugh as she dragged him out into the snow.

“What’s your problem!?” Chrom snapped.

“No, what’s  _ your _ problem. Frederick and Sully are here for the first time in YEARS and you’re treating them like strangers!”

“They’re strangers to me. I don’t get how you could let them in our house, Lissa.”

“What in the gods' names are you talking about?!”

“They’re  _ knights _ . The same people who turned their noses up when we needed help.”

“But  _ they _ didn’t! Frederick and Sully haven’t done anything to us, Chrom!”

“Why don’t we ask them about the villages they bled dry before moving on to the next? I’m sure they have plenty of tales to tell!”

“Chrom, you’re mad about the knight’s not protecting us? I said we could hire them-”

“That’s the whole point! We shouldn’t  _ have _ to hire them. It was their duty to help us without a cost ten years ago. They only started charging outrageous amounts when things got tough, so that they wouldn’t have to do anything about it!”

“Gods, can you stop thinking like you’re so above it all? I get that these years have been rough for us, but it’s probably been really rough for them too.”

“Oh, I’m sure taking advantage of the peasantry has been  _ super _ draining on them.”

“Fine, okay,” Lissa pinched the bridge of her nose. “If you can’t be civil to them for your sake, be civil for mine. I was hoping we could butter them up and get a nice discount for protection since we already know them and all… you know?”

“For gods’ sake… fine. But they won’t budge. It’s in their code not to.”

With a roll of her eyes, Lissa dragged her brother back into the house, where Sully and Frederick stood in the same place. The look on their face seemed to say that they had heard almost all of their conversation.

“So… what have you guys been up to?” Lissa tried to reignite the conversation.

“Mostly patrolling the eastern part of the country,” Frederick responded. “After reports of the dragon subsided, a lot of citizens were still very concerned about the probability of the next attack. So a large part of our squadron was stuck there for a few months until we determined it was safe.”

“Ooo, did you guys ever see it? I heard it was terrifying!”

“Personally, no. But our old captain swore on his life he saw it on a midnight patrol with a goat in its jaws. He-”

“He never shut up about it, either!” Sully added. “We’d be sitting around the campfire at night, and after he’d had one too many mugs of ale, he sits there and goes through the whole story like he had it memorized.”

“Heh, he probably does!” Frederick chuckled. 

“If you’ve heard it that many times, you have to have it memorized too! Tell me what you know,” Lissa insisted, while Chrom only seemed to tense up. This was the last thing he wanted to hear about. To distract himself from the conversation, he began to pour himself and his unlikely guests glasses of water.

“Oh, where to start,” Sully said as she got into character. Her voice seemingly dropped an octave and she covered one eye. “‘I tells ya, that damned dragon was like one I’d never seen! Eyes like a blood moon, horns like spears. And arms and legs, not unlike mine and yours that it could use to… GET YA!’” She lunged forward at Lissa, who let out a surprised gasp. Sully only laughed, while Frederick himself chuckled.

“When did the dragon stop showing up?” Chrom asked with a sour expression as he handed everyone a glass.

“Hm? Oh, I’d say two or three years ago. At least that’s when we stopped hearin’ about it,” Sully responded.

“Do you know where it went?”

“I heard the last people saw of it was headin’ off into Mansfell. Hell, people say it came from there, too,” Sully said, taking a sip of water. “I guess that’s more a reason to stay out of there, huh?”

Lissa gripped the ruffles of her dress and gave Chrom a quick look, who seemed to not be listening.

“Right you are,” Frederick affirmed. “I mean, we all grew up hearing the stories. The fact one of them ended up being real is just… I shudder at the thought of ever seeing that beast.”

“Heh, me too. Say, Chrom. Didja ever go back into the woods to see your little feral girlfriend?”

“I did. Thanks for reminding me,” he hissed in response.

“Sorry, didn’t know it was a touchy subject. Did you break up or somethin’?” She continued to tease.

“OKAY! H-hey, why don’t we move on? We could have Stahl and Sumia over and we could all have dinner? How does that sound?” Lissa said with a clap of her hands.

“Sounds lovely,” Chrom hissed through his teeth. “Unfortunately, I’ll be taking a rain check.” He hurried over to the front door to sling his coat on before grabbing his flowers and heading back out into the snow, refusing to listen to the shouts for his name or cries of concern coming from inside. 

The sun had just begun to set over the horizon, and the air only seemed to get colder. But Chrom still had things to do.

The village cemetery was a ways away from his house, situated on the top of a hill that looked out over the town. A small grove of evergreens protected the area from the harshest of weather, but even then they couldn’t stop a patch of snow from reaching the groves. 

As he approached, he gave a quick snap of his fingers to summon a small ball of fire to light the way. The mage fire did little in ways of heat, but in all honesty, it was better than nothing.

Three graves sat side by side. Each with the corresponding information scratched into the headstones accordingly. No last name given, of course. Peasants didn’t have last names. According to most nobles, they didn’t even  _ deserve  _ them.

Chrom set the crocuses on his mother’s and Emm’s headstones, giving his father's a glare before sitting himself down in the snow. His mage fire darted around him, flickering occasionally to give the scene an even more haunting look.

“Hey Emm…” he said after a moment of silence. “I’m sorry it’s been so long since I last came to visit. You wouldn’t believe how crazy it’s been this year. Mother… you left us at just the right time, it seems… heh.

“Gods… I don’t know what I’m doing. I just… Emm, we still needed you.  _ I _ still needed you.” He took a shaky breath, staring at his sister’s headstone. The years inscribed had only a seventeen year difference. 

“...You know? You didn’t deserve any of this… It should have been me,” he whispered, placing a hand on his forehead. 

“I never thought I’d see the day where you thought so low of yourself, Chrom,” a deep voice sounded from behind him, along with the clank of armor.

He whipped his head around to Frederick standing in the snow covered path, though the knight didn’t dare approach. 

“Why are you here?” He demanded.

“Lissa explained everything that happened… May I sit?” 

Chrom didn’t give a response, though the man took a seat anyways.

“I’m sorry that we weren’t here for you after everything that happened,” he continued.

“It’s a bit too late for that. A few years, actually.”

“Chrom… I’m  _ trying _ . I understand the feelings you must have about seeing us, especially on such short notice. But we came because we missed our home, we missed our families… and we missed our friends. And that includes you.”

“That can’t be all you came for…”

“You’re right, it isn’t. But Sully and I made it our priority to see you and Lissa first before we did anything else.”

“Well, thank you so much for taking time out of your  _ busy  _ schedules to come mingle with the commoners!” He sneered before running a hand down his face. “Gods, I don’t even know why I’m entertaining this conversation…”

“Because I’m your friend, Chrom. Look, I know how much pain you’ve been through, and I can’t even imagine how hard this year must’ve been… but you can’t just shut me out like that. I was in no position to come back until now, and this was the first thing I did as soon as I was able.”

… He had a point.

It wasn’t their fault.

So why was he acting like it was?

Chrom gave the man a sorrowful look before wiping his eyes. “Gods, look at me. I’m a grown man babbling like a baby…”

Frederick chuckled and clasped an armored hand on his friend's shoulder. “We’ve all been there.”

“But it’s no excuse for the way I reacted… ugh, I sounded just like my Father. I’m so sorry, Frederick. I-if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, it would mean the world.”

“There’s no need to apologize, Chrom. I’d almost say it was warranted. But you must know that we’re here for you. Always… especially now.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, considering we’re here to rebuild the knight’s guild and set up some real defenses around the village… I’d say we’ll be seeing a lot of each other in the future. Free of charge.”

“You’re joking. There’s now way the Knight’s of Ylisstol would allow you to do something like that!”

“Heh, well it’s a good thing our captain doesn’t take no for an answer.”

“Well, who’s your captain? I have to go give them my thanks!”

“You’re looking at him.”

Chrom’s eyes went wide.

No way.

No  _ way _ .

There was no way in hell that Frederick, the very same who had been more interested in doing chores and domestic work as a kid, was captain of his squadron.

“Alright, haha, you got my reaction. Now-”

“I’m serious, Chrom. Why would I lie about this?”

“...Good point. I just… I can’t believe it.”

“I couldn’t either,” Frederick laughed. “But hey, ten years is enough to change someone, right?”

“Heh, you’re right about that…” Chrom stood up out of the snow and brushed his pants off. “Let’s get back home, I really have to apologize to Sully.”

“By all means, lead the way,” Frederick responded with a smile. 

“Let’s just hope she takes it as well as you. I’d hate to end up with a matching black eye!”

The two men let out a jovial laugh that echoed through the snowy hills and started their trek back to the house, which shone like a beacon amongst the dark houses and white plains.

Chrom wasn’t expecting Stahl and Sumia to have arrived so quickly, seeing as both of them had already started to help prep dinner before he and Frederick had even arrived.

After a quick string of apologies to Sully, which he was relieved she took in good nature, the group of friends sat around the table telling rousing tales and stories from their lives. When the food was ready, the conversation didn’t stop, and everyone spoke with their mouths full of food until their stomach’s couldn’t take it. 

It was a small moment compared to the hell they had been through, but to Chrom, that’s what made it all the better.

Though, there was one thing in the back of his mind.

Another old friend would’ve fit in great among the rest of his peers.

But it had been a long while since he had seen Robin. 

And frankly, his mind was telling him to stop living in the past.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally almost posted this chapter yesterday because I have no self control and I want to get more chapters out for ya'll, but here I am, adhering to an arbitrary schedule.


	8. Old Scars, New Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wounds heal over time, but the scar stays. If you aren't careful, nothing is stopping you from getting hurt again.

It had been a long time since the village came together like this. When Chrom was little, the biggest parts of his childhood would be when a new house needed to be built and the whole town made a day of it. People who would’ve normally been strangers came together in a day that made everyone feel appreciated as they spent hours building.

Then, it was celebrated with food and copious amounts of drinking. It was as his mother always said: Ylisseans will find any excuse to party. 

So when the townsfolk saw Chrom and the rest of Frederick’s platoon, needless to say they were interested. 

Construction was finished before the end of the day, a feat that was impressive considering the scope of the project. A large, wooden building that spanned from one end of the village to the next, fitted with a dome top that wasn’t unlike the keel of a ship.

The winter had driven the town apart, when it should have been a time to come together. But this new guild, and the promise of protection against brigands, was the catalyst the town needed. Buildings that had been destroyed in recent raids found themselves built back up, and even Sumia’s greenhouse had been repaired the best they were able.

It seemed like everything was finally looking up, for everyone. 

~*~*~*~*~

Chrom found himself shocked when Sully offered him lessons in swordplay. Not that the gesture was unappreciated he just… never saw her as the type to offer. 

“You’ve definitely got the power behind your strikes, but your footwork is a mess!” She chided from the sidelines. “If you can’t get the basic stances down, then there’s no hope for you!”

He’d heard the same complaints from Robin when she tried to show him magic. In the end, he’d barely been able to conjure so much as an ember of fire, but it was progress to him. 

But here, he was in his element. The sword just felt much more natural in his grasp than any ranged, otherworldly weapon.  So he adjusted his stance, looking towards Sully for approval. She gave him a thumbs up and he continued his practice swings against the training dummy in front of him.

“I’m inclined to call you a natural, Chrom! But I’m even more inclined to call it beginners luck!” She heckled once more. He rolled his eyes and focused on his target.

Each strike sent clumps of straw spiraling to the floor, each slice cut through the burlap exterior. Soon enough, his movements were beginning to blend together. Each swing felt more and more fluid, his sword feeling like an extension of his body. 

He was so in the moment that he didn’t hear Sully’s yells telling him to stop.

“ALRIGHT!” She grabbed him by the shoulder. “I think he’s had enough, yeah?” She gestured to the broken and battered dummy that was scattered across the floor.

“Gods, sorry… I didn’t realize!” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I guess so,” she chuckled. “But this is why we use training swords on training dummies instead of actual weapons!”

~*~*~*~*~

Frederick knew it was a bad idea.

Sully did too.

Hell, Chrom strongly advised against it. 

Unfortunately, Lissa did not.

“You’ve got to get your legs in the stirrups!” Frederick called from the sides. 

“Well, get your hands on the reins first!” Sully suggested. 

“I think she’s actually got to get her body up on the horse,” Chrom noted.

Lissa had insisted on trying to ride one of the knight’s horses, despite having no experience with the animal. Someone had offered to help her up, but she simply waved them off before trying to jump up onto the draft horses back. 

After three times of kicking it in the side, the horse took off… with Lissa draped over the saddle. 

Now they found themselves trying to corner the beast of burden to safely get her off. 

Sully considered for a moment breaking her own mount out of the makeshift stables, but after hearing the horror stories of a horse with human intelligence, and malice to match, it was decided that he stay hitched. 

The draft horse, unfortunately, took off further into the field where it was considerably harder to rein in. Why Lissa hadn’t just released her grip on the saddle was beyond any of them, but besides that, they had a horse to catch.

“Have you ever ridden before?” Frederick asked Chrom as he handed him the reins of another horse.

“I've barely seen one, let alone ridden one,” he joked, running a hand down the mount’s muzzle.

“Well, now would be an excellent time to learn! What do you say?” 

“I guess I say why not!” 

After a moment of getting situated in the saddle, Chrom followed his friend into the fields to give chase after the loose animal. It was easier than expected to keep his balance and to keep the horse under his control, considering the foot of snow they had to trudge through.

“Alright, we better pick up the pace. Give your steed a little kick with your heels to get him to speed up, okay?” Frederick advised. Chrom looked at his mount for a moment before digging his heels into its side.

The beast let out a whinny before breaking into gallop, the drastic change in speed almost knocking Chrom out of the saddle and into the snow.

“I-I can’t stop this thing!” He cried, just barely retaining his grip on the horn of the saddle. Frederick appeared next to him, his own horse galloping along in the snow.

“You’ve got the hang of it, I’d say!” He said with a laugh. “Come now, let’s go get your sister!”

Soon enough, the two had caught up with the stray horse, using their own mounts to steer it back towards the village. Once they had safely crossed over the threshold into the guild, Lissa dropped down to the ground with a thud.

“You alright?” Chrom said with a laugh as he hovered over his sister.

“Oh, just  _ great _ . Gods, I’m never doing that again!” She cried.

“Well, Lissa, we do have a pony that might be better suited for you,” Frederick said with a grin. She only shot him a glare before sulking away, leaving the rest to laugh among themselves.

~*~*~*~*~

With a wild bleat, the ram reared back and charged head first at Frederick, who just narrowly avoided the attack with a roll through the snow. 

“You’ve got to get past him, buddy!” Chrom called from the other side of the fencing. “One of those ewes is due to have her baby and we’ve got to make sure she’s okay!”

“I understand that!” He called back. “But this  _ beast _ won’t let me get past!” On cue, the ram charged again, it’s four black horns contrasting against the snow and it’s own white wool. 

“Hey, you were the one who wanted to help me with shepherd work!” Chrom pointed out. “I’m just trying to help!”

“Right but- GAH -your  _ helpful _ advice doesn’t seem to be working- GODS, THIS SHEEP IS CRAZED!” Frederick shouted, taking a calculated leap over the fence only to land face first in the snow. 

“Alright, that was a good effort. But let me show you how it's done.” 

It took only a moment for the ram to headbutt Chrom squarely in the stomach, knocking him to the ground. 

“That was a first rate job, my friend,” Frederick sneered from the side. “Why are your sheep birthing in the winter anyways? I’m not an expert, obviously, but don’t they normally drop in spring?”

“Normally, yeah. But sometimes they’re mated earlier than expected and end up with a due date in the winter moons. It’s definitely frustrating, that’s for sure. But I’d hate to have a lamb go to waste if something went wrong.” He turned his attention to the house and let out a sharp whistle. 

Cedra came bounding out of the house, her dark brown coat a mere streak against the snow.

“Alright girl, distract him. Let’s go, Frederick,” he motioned for the knight to follow as the shepherd dog squared off with the ram. She nipped and snarled at the sheep each time it tried to charge, which seemed to be a big enough deterrent.

Chrom’s family had never had a barn, but they did have a series of smaller stables set up in case the livestock needed shelter. They were stocked with enough water and grain to serve as a makeshift barn, and he knew that the expecting ewe had to be hiding in one somewhere. 

He had been right, and the mother had already given birth to her baby, and Frederick had almost lost his lunch at the sight of the bloody lamb as the ewe licked it clean. How the captain of a band of knights couldn’t handle the sight was beyond Chrom.

“Well, is that it?” The knight asked.

“More or less, yeah. Just wanted to make sure everything was going smoothly. And I trust my sheep to take care of their young.” He reached forward to rub the head of the baby, only for the mother to quickly get to her feet and charge at the two men.

“Gods, this one’s crazed too!” Frederick cried.

“No, she’s just protective of the baby, that’s all. Right, Mama?” Chrom gave the sheep a pat on the head, which she let out a cheerful ‘baaa’ at. 

“It’s freezing out here, I’m heading back-” Frederick stopped mid sentence. 

“Alright, quit your complaining-” Chrom rose to his feet and stopped as soon as his eyes fell on the entrance to the stable. 

The ram. 

His eyes glared at them with a human-like intelligence, his foot dug against the ground. 

He was not happy.

“What do we do?” Frederick asked worriedly. 

“Easy, there’s a back door right behind us…” as he turned to show the door, his heart dropped. 

The mother and her lamb were situated right in front of it. 

“Gods… Okay, I’m sure we can just sneak by…” Chrom took one step towards the lamb, and the mother was up on her feet, seemingly faster than last time. 

The ewe bore a pair of horns that seemed just as impressive as the rams, because of  _ course _ both sexes had to be horned. 

There was seemingly no way out of this trap, and their options started to dwindle as soon as the ram charged.

~*~*~*~*~

A large bonfire roared in the middle of town. Couples danced to the fast paced music the musicians played, children chased each other around, and Chrom sat with his friends in a large circle, all with big mugs of frothing ale.

The reason for the night's celebration? The first brigand raid had been successfully repelled, thanks to the combined efforts of the Knights of Ylisstol and the townsfolk. 

It felt real. It finally felt like a real victory for them, after years of constant losing. The celebration seemed to renew everyone’s spirits, something they needed desperately. Tomorrow, some of the villagers would set off to Ylisstol for the first time in forever to sell their goods and bring some new gold back to the village.

Others would work on clearing the snow out of the fields so that they could start planning ahead for the growing season, while others would invest on upkeep of the village grounds, finally making it look like a place worth living in.

But for Chrom, tonight was just the final breath of fresh air he needed. For so long, he had lived bogged down by the events of the past, unsure if he was truly allowed to move on or forgive himself. 

Now, he felt he could finally live in the present. 

“Chrom?” Sumia gave his arm a light tap. His eyes met hers for a brief moment.

“Hm?”

“How are you feeling?”

“Er, I’m feeling just fine? Do I look sick?” What an odd question.

“N-no, if anything you look the opposite. You just seem… happy, I guess,” her face flushed a vibrant red as she started to play with the ends of her hair.

“Heh, I am happy, Sumia. Happier than I’ve been in a long while.” 

“I’m v-very glad to hear that, Chrom. I was worried about you, you know.”

“Worried? What for?”

“Oh, I mean, I don’t know, you were always just so downcast and I was worried that I couldn’t do anything to help or that I’d never see your eyes as bright as they are now,” Sumia’s eyes went wide as she realized what she said. 

“My eyes are bright, are they?” Chrom teased, swirling the contents of his mug around.

“Gods, n-no, I didn’t mean like that! I meant… ugh, someone take this ale away from me, I think I’ve had too much!”

Chrom chuckled to himself, becoming painfully aware of how close they were sitting. 

Sumia had always been a dear friend to him, ever since they were kids. Despite having almost nothing in common, they’d found a deep bond between one another.

However, he’d never been able to quite place his feelings for her. She was a lovely person but… a voice deep within urged him to steer clear. Whatever for, he’d never quite understood. Perhaps it was how he felt he didn’t deserve to be happy. Perhaps it was something deeper.

Whatever the reason, and though the feeling continued to persist, he chose to ignore it’s warning.

Frederick and Stahl were immersed in conversation, Sully had escorted Lissa back to the house so she could bring Cedra with them… which meant no one was watching. 

He wasn’t sure who leaned in first, and perhaps it was the alcohol talking, as their lips neared a mere breath away from each other. 

The feeling inside him screamed for him to stop, but he was heeding no warning. Time seemed to slow to a still. 

He leaned in just a hair closer… 

“CHROM!” 

He shot back away from Sumia, who did the same. The two looked at each other, faces both bright and vermillion. 

_ What are you doing? _ A part of him chided. 

_ I’m trying to be happy _ , he responded.

_ But is this the way to do it? _

He suddenly felt very foolish for arguing with himself. Gods, what  _ was _ he doing? He couldn’t do something like that without fully understanding his feelings first, gods forbid he make a grave mistake.

“CHROM!” The voice yelled again. Sully emerged into the village square, frazzled and out of breath. 

“What,  _ what!? _ ” He responded, standing to meet her. 

“It’s Lissa, she-”

“What happened?” Frederick suddenly interrupted.

“Gods, let me finish, you oaf!” She smacked the man upside the head. “Chrom, Cedra got out of the house and took after an ermine and-”

“And what!?”

“She followed it into Mansfell.”

“C-Cedra’s been there before. She should be fine, right?”

“It wasn’t just her, Chrom. Lissa waited a bit for her to come back out but she never did.”

“So she went in after the damned dog? And you  _ let _ her?”

No.

“She slipped out of my grasp! I tried to stop her but she said to come get you. It’s been a while and she hasn’t come back and-” Sully’s voice slowly faded into the background noise. 

_ No _ .

This wasn’t happening again. 

At least, Chrom wouldn’t let it. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It begins.
> 
> Okay but In all seriousness, I'm really excited to finally get into the actual story that I had thought of months ago. I've always found it difficult to write the more 'filler-y' chapters, but that wasn't the case here! I also find it fun whenever I write scenarios that I'm not entirely familiar with, I always end up learning something (in this stories case, I did some research on shepherding and sheep breeds, and the sheep in this chapter are more or less the Jacob sheep (look them up, they're super cool)). Oh, also an ermine is just a weasel in its winter coat, in case anyone didn't know!
> 
> ANYWAYS, thank you all for reading and feel free to leave a comment letting me know what you liked, what you didn't, or anything in between!


	9. Abundant Solace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It can't seem to get much worse... but fate is a cruel mistress it seems

How could he let this happen?

With cold blood, Chrom sprinted back to his house, faster than he ever had before. He prayed that this all may have been some kind of sick joke that was being played on him. But there was no sign of Cedra nor Lissa in the house. 

This was real. 

He quickly grabbed his sword off of the dining table and took off once again. Behind him, three horses charged to catch up.

“Chrom, this may be a little quicker!” Frederick shouted, holding the reins of Chrom’s draft horse. He had never mounted his steed faster, and he was off once again with Sully and Frederick in tow.

The distance between his house and Mansfell was considerable enough where walking may have meant finding Lissa too late, but even the damned horse felt too slow. With a snap of his fingers, he summoned his mage fire and willed it to float above the snow.

As clear as day, three sets of tracks were carved through the snow. Lissa’s and Cedra’s were obvious, but a small line seemed to have cut through.

Gods, it was the damned ermine the dog caught smell off. 

The treeline of Mansfell stood like a barrier between Chrom’s past and present. He hadn’t been anywhere near the forest in years and yet… here he was. The tracks so obviously led inside, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was how his father felt. The day two of his children ran off, only for one to perish against gods’ know what.

“Alright, you two stay out here. I’m going in-”

“No way,” Sully interrupted. “Chrom, there’s no way you’re going in there, let alone by yourself.”

“No, I have to. I have the most experience being there. It was my damn dog that ran off too. I don’t want to drag you guys in this mess more than needed,” Chrom spurred his mount forward, though the horse refused to move. It tossed its head back with a whinny, huffing and pacing around like a timid mouse.

“Chrom, you may have forgotten, but it’s our job to help. Let us come with,” Frederick urged.

“No! Just… just let me do this. If one of you ended up like… like Emm did, I wouldn’t forgive myself. So please,” he begged. “Let me go alone.”

He didn’t wait for their responses before digging his heels into the side of his horse, which caused it to finally break through the treeline and enter the forest. Below him, there was a clear path through the underbrush which Lissa and Cedra had broken through deeper into the woods.

Deeper into the woods. Of course. Cedra couldn’t have run in and run out, which would have made this all so much easier.

His mage fire still held strong as he spurred his horse into a slow canter, something fast enough to follow the trail without getting knocked off by a stray tree branch.

The woods were eerie at night, both by its limited visibility and by the memories it brought. The warm summer days he and Robin would spend running through the groves and discovering new areas to play in, or picking berries to share when the surrounding bushes bore their fruit. They were fond memories, of course. But every thought of the past always led back to that fateful day. The day he made his biggest mistake.

A myriad of emotions washed over him, none of which he was able to fully process as he urged his horse to move on. The path continued deeper still into the trees.

He cursed that damned dog under his breath.

The broken twigs and bushes zigzagged around, an indicator of the wild mind that created them. His horse let out a frustrated neigh, obviously not happy about the idea of going deeper into the forest. It must’ve sensed something. 

Something dangerous.

Chrom perished any thoughts that popped into his head as he continued.

Eventually, the underbrush began to clear as the trees got older and taller. The trees were more spread out, but their ancient branches stretched high above and sheltered the forest floor from any light that may have filtered through. 

That almost meant he couldn’t see a damned thing. He had to follow Lissa’s footprints but without an obvious path to follow, he lost the path at least three times.  _ Gods, I don’t have time for this!  _ He thought angrily to himself as he hopped off his mount.

“Okay, buddy, I need you to stay here and-” he tried to say as he reached for the reins, only for the horse to pull away, rear back, and gallop out of the forest.

He was completely alone. 

Chrom’s blood went cold. 

His heart thundered in his ears.

His mage fire petered out.

“Ah! No no no no…” he said in a panic. He snapped his fingers to summon it back. 

Nothing. 

He snapped again. 

No spark, no ember, nothing.

He took a second to breath. The basics of magic hadn’t come easy to him. But he had retained one thing from his lessons all those years ago. 

He settled his breathing, with a deep breath in and a smooth exhale to follow. Steady breathing meant a steady heart, and that meant focus. And focus meant magic.

He snapped his fingers once more.

His ball of fire appeared. 

With a sigh of relief, Chrom continued. 

The tracks left in the snow were harder to see, but very much still present. This area of the forest seemed quite familiar but… why?

He found his answer as he stepped into the second clearing. 

Gods, he never wanted to come back to this place. The trees ahead of him were broken, as if something had pushed their way through them, and the surrounding underbrush had seemed to creep its way inward over the past ten years.

Things had definitely changed, but that didn’t stop him from relieving that day.

Emmeryn’s face had been cloaked in terror. The Grey Faces had been an unrelenting force to escape from… and Validar. The man who had allegedly revived the Fell Dragon… the man who was responsible for his sister's death. 

Chrom hadn’t been there when it happened, thank the gods. But Validar seemed to have been the one calling the shots, the one who ordered the others around. So whatever had happened had to have been his fault… right?

He shook his head, pushing his fears aside and pressed further. Lissa’s tracks continued across the clearing and through the broken trees: the same directions he and Emm had been headed in.

His whole being screamed at him not to continue, but Lissa may have been in trouble. He couldn’t let anything bad happen to her… he  _ wouldn _ ’ _ t _ .

As he pressed on through the woods, her tracks started to get harder and harder to see. 

“Gods, where did she go?” He murmured to himself, willing his fire to flit around him. He ran his hands across one of her footprints, only to find a piece of cobbled stone beneath the stone.

He tilted his head for a moment before sending his ball of fire to melt away the snow in front of him to reveal a path of cobblestone. One that led to a crumbling stone wall, which connected to an iron gate. Which gave entrance to the biggest castle he had ever seen.

Twisted black spires, towering watch towers, a partially shattered stained glass window… this was an actual castle. A  _ castle,  _ in the middle of Mansfell!

Robin had been telling the truth all along, it seemed.

He still had a ways to go before actually entering the castle grounds and this was where the tracks stopped. He scanned the area, praying that he would find his sister safe and sound, cooped up under a tree. 

But all he could see was a misshapen lump sticking out in a snow drift like a sore thumb.

His heart leapt into his throat.

That… no, it couldn’t be… right?

Chrom braced himself, ready for the worst and approached the form. A thick line of blood trailed through the snow leading to the lump, like a blazing path against the white snow. One that indicated injury.

One that indicated death.

He held his breath, willing his ball of fire to float closer to the body.

His breath hitched.

It was Cedra. 

Chrom dropped to his knees and cradled the fallen dog in his arms. She had passed quite a while ago, if the lack of warmth in her fur was any indication. He brushed a hand over her head and down her back, as if in hopes to find some indication of life.

“I’m so sorry, Cedra… my good girl…” he whispered, feeling his heart drop into his stomach as his hand whisked over a large, empty area of her body.

Something had ripped apart her abdomen, its entrails nowhere to be seen. What kind of monster would do this? Who had the stomach to brutalize a dog like that?

A shrill cry suddenly echoed through the woods, drawing his attention away from Cedra. The sound of heavy breathing and branches snapping indicated that something, or some _ one _ , was charging at him.

He got to his feet in a flash and placed a hand on his sword, only to have whatever it was crash into him, sending him spiraling to the ground.

“C-Chrom!”

It was Lissa, thank the gods. Her dress was torn in several places, and her face was covered in scratches, hopefully just from the stray twigs whipping at her face.

“Lissa!” He cried. “A-are you okay?”

“No! I mean, yes, I’m okay, but C-Cedra isn’t and I couldn’t save her and-” Lissa choked back a sob. “There’s  _ something _ chasing me!”

“Gods, of course,” he got to his feet and drew his sword in one smooth motion. “Did you see what it was?”

“I-I don’t know! It looked human but I couldn’t see anything. All I saw where these red dots and then a huge silver axe came swinging down at me!” 

Grey Faces. 

Of course. 

Those damned soldiers were trying to take the only family he had left, and he wasn’t going to let them.

“Alright, okay… We need to get out of here before any more of them show up. How many were after you?”

“M-maybe just one? Do you mean there’s more? Chrom, what are these th-things?!” His sister sniffed.

“They’re not good, I can tell you that. I still don’t understand what they are but… Emm and I encountered them ten years ago. They tried to kill us.”

Lissa let out a sob before burying her face in her hands. 

“B-but I’m not going to let them hurt you, okay? We just need to leave now-” He was cut off mid sentence by an arrow landing a foot away from him. 

The surrounding trees seemed to come alive as humanoid figures emerged, all wielding their own unique array of weapons.

These were the Grey Faces alright. Their red eyes bore holes in Chrom as they stared him down, though none seemed to move. They all just seemed to be… waiting. For  _ something _ to happen. For  _ him _ to make the first move. 

Chrom adjusted his grip on the hilt of his sword, and that seemed to be enough to send them into a frenzy. Two of the soldiers darted straight for him, one jabbing an ornate silver lance at his chest, the other swinging a decorated axe like a wild animal. 

He pushed Lissa out of the way, parrying the axe with his own weapon. The lance missed its mark, though just barely as it grazed the side of his calf. With a hiss of pain, Chrom stabbed his sword at the chest of the lance wielder, a feeling of relief washing over him as the soldier made no attempt to move. His sword pierced the chestplate, distorting the complex design of what appeared to be a horse, and sunk deeper into the soldier's chest.

There was no blood, there was no cry of agony from the soldier. They simply grabbed hold of the blade and removed it, pushing back against Chrom. 

“Wha-” was all he could say before the soldier grabbed him by the arm and tossed him like a ragdoll towards the castle. What kind of inhuman strength did these things have? Lissa’s scream echoed through the woods as other Grey Faces made their advance towards her. Chrom fell to the ground with a thud, struggling to breath. He dug the tip of his sword into the ground to help him stand, but something behind him made him pause.

Whatever it was, he couldn’t see. But every hair on his body seemed to stand on end, indicating an inherent  _ wrongness _ . There was something behind him, but it was something that was unnatural and unnerving. 

Certainly something he could worry about later.

He struggled to his feet and charged at the other Grey Faces, knocking them to the ground while bearing his sword at those who attempted to get closer.

He and Lissa were wildly outnumbered, with seemingly no way to get out of this fight. Chrom tried to rack his brain for any memory of what these soldiers were like: what kind of weaknesses, any kind of fault that he could exploit.  _ Anything _ .

But there was nothing. 

Nothing except their corpse faces and their inability to feel pain. Nothing. Physical attacks seemed to do nothing… But what about magic?

It was a gamble. Chrom had never been able to produce more than the measly ball of fire that had since vanished. But it was all he had. 

He snapped his finger, and the fire appeared. Though tiny, the Grey Face closest to him seemed to take a step back. He willed it to move closer and the soldier only further retreated.

That was it. 

They hated fire. 

For what reason? Chrom didn’t know, nor did he care to. He forced the small amounts of magic he had in his being into the fire, watching it grow little by little. By the end, the ball of fire had barely grown, and he felt completely drained… but it would do.

He yanked Lissa to her feet and willed the fire to move around them in a protective circle, which caused the soldiers to keep their distance. 

“Chrom…” Lissa whispered. “I didn’t know you could do magic…”

“I can’t,” he panted. “I’m… struggling to k-keep this up…”

They had made it to the crumbled wall, but the Grey Faces still surrounded them, though they wouldn’t get any closer. 

Chrom could barely keep on his feet. This was what it felt like to exhaust yourself from magic. He remembered a time Emm was bed ridden for days after casting one too many spells. If she could barely handle it… he knew he didn’t have much time left.

But what else was there to do? If the ball petered out, the Grey Faces would quickly close in and kill both of them. If he kept it going, he would certainly pass out, leaving both him and Lissa defenseless. If he stopped the spell now, he’d be too exhausted to fight but…

But he could buy his sister some time.

“Lissa…” he wheezed. “When I tell you to run, you need to  _ run. _ Do you understand?”

“Chrom, no. Don’t do what I think you’re going to-”

“Lissa,  _ listen  _ to me. I can’t keep this up. Unless you want us both to die, then you need to run NOW.”

“I’m not leaving you! You’re all I have left, and I’m not going to let you play hero and throw your life away.”

“And it’s my fault that I’m all that’s left! Just… just let me do this!” 

“No, Chrom! I don’t care what you think you did, but I’m not-”

He cut her off by sending the ball of fire after her. She sensibly backed away from it, though her eyes were filled with hesitation.

“Go. T-tell the knights. I can hold out that long… just… go,” he murmured. His vision started to blur, though he could barely keep his eyes open. All he could see was the blurry shape of his sister unwillingly running away, disappearing into the dark forest. 

He lost all feeling in his legs as he collapsed to the ground, with his ball of fire not too far behind. 

He had no strength left. Nothing he could do to protect himself against the soldiers as their cracked, dead faces filled his vision.

They were the last thing he saw before falling unconscious, and the last thing he felt was being dragged through the snow.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I dragging this out for suspense? Possibly. Is it working? I hope soooo. 
> 
> To start this out I wanted to say that I appreciated each and everyone one of you who took the time to read this, who took the time to leave a comment, and who took the time to drop a kudos. It means the world to me, and even if I don't respond to every comment (there's only so many ways to say 'thank you so much!' without sounding like a broken record) know that each one makes my day, even if its something small or critical. 
> 
> On a different note, I have three other stories in the work right now (all Chrobin because its the only ship I actually ship), because loathe as I am to admit it, I'm losing steam in this boat (I'm not ditching this story, hell no, cause I've invested a lot of time and energy into it lol), but updates might become infrequent. In their place, I have an Among Us AU (Which sounds silly but like most of the internet, this game owns my life), a super long FEA novelization that aims to kinda rewrite the story to make It make a bit more sense, or, and this one is really stupid, the Shepherd's play DnD more or less (and there's a whole explanation for how that came to mind but I'll spare ya'll the details). ANYWAYS. If any of those sound interesting, let me know!


	10. Squirm in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trapped in a dungeon, shocked at the fact he's still alive, Chrom grapples with the fact he might spend the rest of his life in an eternal prison, patrolled by the undead, and one terrifying dragon.

The clackle of chains.

The drip of water.

The shuffling of feet against the worn cobblestone.

Chrom thought he was dead. He  _ should _ have been dead.

But he wasn’t.

Though, perhaps death was preferable to the state he was in. His whole body ached with every move, his muscles sore and stiff. His head throbbed with a headache unlike any other, and his mouth felt dry and thick, as if a bundle of sheep wool had been stuffed in.

It was like the worst hangover he’d ever had, but he knew this wasn’t because of any alcohol.

It was magical burnout.

In any other case, he would have burnt from the inside out on the spot. But whether it was his own body protecting itself, or some divine intervention, he had survived.

In truth, Chrom was almost a little embarrassed that such a small amount of fire would cause him to burn out. 

But he didn’t have time to feel embarrassed. He didn’t have time to feel sorry for himself, or even wonder if Lissa made it back home. 

All that mattered was why he was still alive and how he could keep it that way. 

An indescribable amount of time passed by before he was able to open his eyes once again. How long had it been? Had he fallen unconscious again? He didn’t know, and he  _ wouldn’t  _ know unless he escaped from… wherever he was.

His arms had been shackled above him, to the wall behind, with thick, iron chains. He gave them a yank, but due to his own exhaustion and the strength of the iron, they didn’t budge. Chrom didn’t necessarily expect them to, but it was worth a shot.

He finally gave his surroundings a good look, though he couldn’t see much. It was almost pitch black here, and he could barely make out the metal bar doors that kept him locked away in some sort of cell. 

Was he in some sort of dungeon? 

_ Of course you are, genius, _ he scolded himself.  _ No doubt in the belly of the castle. _

Occasionally, he’d hear the clang of armor as something shuffled through the dungeon hallways, or the pitter patter of rats in the walls. 

On rare occasions, he’d hear something massive move above him in the hallways of the castle. Perhaps it was something, or maybe it was some _ one _ . But he figured if any reincarnation of the Fell Dragon lived within these castle walls, he would’ve been dead long before anyone had a chance to chain him up.

His cell was barren. No sort of window to the outside world, not even a plank of wood to call a bed. 

Chrom didn’t quite understand why he was down here. What did his captors have planned? No food had been provided, nor any water… so was he just to slowly rot away? 

If that was the case, he would’ve rather perished in the fight with the Grey Faces. 

But… there was no use in struggling against his binds, not that he had the energy for it. 

So he simply let his eyes close and drift into a dreamless sleep, praying to any god he could that he would wake up back home.

~*~*~*~

“No way.”

A voice startled Chrom awake.

“They really  _ did _ bring someone else in here!” 

He peeled his eyes open, squinting against the light of a flaming torch.

“Urgghh,” he groaned as a response.

“Man, I can’t believe it. You know, when I saw the Risen carrying a limp body, I thought you were dead, buddy. But, boy, am I happy to hear a sound come out of you!”

“W-who… are you?” Chrom muttered, his own words wreaking havoc on his throat. He hadn’t had anything to drink in… well, for however long he’d been down here for.

“The better question is who are  _ you? _ It’s been quite a while since anyone has been stupid enough to get this close to the castle. What were you doing, anyways?”

“My dog… ran away and my-” He let out a sputtering cough. “M-my sister went after her. I gave chase and ended up here… So I didn’t really come willingly, if that’s what you were t-thinking.”

The other person, a man, let out a sudden chuckle.

“Your  _ dog _ brought you here? HA! I can’t imagine being that unlucky!” 

“Is it really that… funny?”

“I mean, not really. It’s more ironic that by following an animal, it led to you being stuck in your eternal prison. But there’s comedy in tragedy, right?”

“Wait, eternal? What do you mean?”

“That’s easy,” the man seemed to pop something into his mouth, though Chrom couldn’t quite see what it was. “There’s this magical ward surrounding the castle grounds. Basically lets live things in but doesn’t let them out. It’s really twisted, if you ask me.”

“So we’re just, what, stuck here?”

“Pretty much.”

“Huh,” Chrom slumped back against the wall. “Wait, you never answered me… who are you?

“Me? Name’s Gaius. I’m just another poor bloke who poked his nose in a place it didn’t belong.”

His eyes finally adjusted to the torch’s light. Gaius was a slim man with a mop of orange hair tied back with a thin strip of black fabric. His clothing was dark, covered with small pouches and tiny burlap bags. Chrom had seen plenty of men like him in the raids against his farm.

“Are you… a thief?”

“Sure am. How do you think I got stuck in here?”

“Probably running with brigands trying to find the weakest villages to pick off from,” he spat.

“Nah, not really my style. I liked to go solo, mostly. And why do you think I picked a big castle like this to loot? I figured it would be only rich folk in here. Well, either that or nobody, considering how worn down the place is.”

“Is there anything else living in this castle? Other than the Grey Faces?”

“Grey Faces? Oh, you mean the Risen. Eh, I think I’ve seen ten of those guys wandering the palace. And a big dragon too, but I don’t think it’s ever so much as glanced at me.”

“Wait, you _saw_ it and lived?”  
“Hell yeah I did. It just kinda mopes around though, like, it doesn’t really… do anything? Kind of weird if you ask me. But I was wandering down the halls when I turned a corner and - bam. Smacked right into its nose. All it did was huff at me and continue wherever it was going.”

“Really…” Chrom didn’t know what to believe. Was this dragon… not Grima? He had been so sure... but the Fell Dragon wasn’t the type to let mortals bump into him and let them live. 

“I swear on my life. But anyways, I reckon you're sick of being all chained up, huh?” Gaius casually opened the cell door and stepped inside, much to Chrom’s surprise.

“Wait, that wasn’t-”

“Locked? Nope. The Risen aren’t too bright. Your chains are locked only because they snap shut. I bet none of them are able to use a key so they just don’t bother locking anything,” he explained as he started to work the locks on Chrom’s shackles. 

“Risen… why do you call them that?”

“Well, duh. They’re dead bodies ‘Risen’ from the grave. Have you seen their faces? Ooh, it gives me the shivers just thinking about it.”

“I guess that makes sense…” 

The two sat in silence for a moment as Gaius broke lockpick after lockpick. With a string of curses, he got to his feet and left the cell.

“W-wait, are you leaving?”  
“Only to go see if I can find a key. Or something to break the locks. Or something to cut your hands off. Whichever comes first,” he responded, leaving the dungeon and taking the only source of Chrom’s light with him.

Frankly, he didn’t know this thief well enough to know if he was joking about cutting his hands, and the possibility of him telling the truth frightened him.

But without Gaius around, there wasn’t much more Chrom could do. So he opted to close his eyes and sleep, hopefully waking to the thief back in his cell.

~*~*~*~

When he did wake, it wasn’t to his new found friend, but instead to a bloody rabbit sitting at his feet. He wasn’t sure what disturbed him more, the fact that the animal had seemingly been mutilated, or the fact that it didn’t bother him as much as it should have.

Who had brought this to him? Why was it even in his cell? He certainly couldn’t eat it, what with being unable to reach it and it being  _ raw _ .

Was it Gaius? But why wouldn’t the thief have woken him up?

All Chrom did was kick the rabbit away and close his eyes again, trying to clear the smell of blood out of his nose before sleeping once more.

~*~*~*~

“Rise n’ shine, princess,” Gaius called from outside the cell.

“Mph… ‘m awake.”

“Heh, barely. Now, I couldn’t find any keys, but I brought you some breakfast. You _are_ hungry, right?”  
Chrom nearly ripped his arms out of the chains himself at the idea of food. He had no idea how long he’d been down here, but he was absolutely _starving_.

“I’ll take that wild look in your eye as a yes,” the thief chuckled, stepping into the cell and catching sight of the rabbit. “Did, er… did you do that?”

“Huh? Oh, no. I just woke up to it sitting at my feet.”

“Weird… that’s gotta be some kind of, I don’t know, bad omen, right? Well, whatever. I found some salted jerky and bread in the kitchen, if that’s alright.”

“There’s a kitchen here?”

“Course there is. There’s still a lot of preserved food here too, so I have no idea when the last living people were here. Oh, I got you some water too. Open your mouth.”

Chrom did as he was told, relishing in the relief as Gaius poured water for him. He didn’t care about the excess that spilled down his chin, or how deranged he must’ve looked. He had never been thirstier in his life, and he  _ had _ to quench it.

“Woah, woah! Slow your roll, Blue! It’s not going anywhere!”

“...Blue?”

“Blue, yeah.”

“But that’s not my name?”

“How observant of you! But your hair’s blue so… Blue.”

“Oh.”

“It’s a nickname, for Naga’s sake. It’s been a while since I’ve talked to anyone so forgive me for bein’ friendly!” Gaius didn’t let Chrom respond as he shoved a piece of jerky into his mouth. “Anyways, like I said, I couldn’t find any keys, but I found more stuff to pick these locks, so hold still!”

By the end of it, a pile of broken lockpicks surrounded the men, and Chrom reamined shackled, though this time with a full stomach.

“Damn, I really thought I was better at this. Must be out of practice,” the thief sighed. “Well, I’ve still got more rooms to search. I’ll see ya when I see ya, Blue.”

~*~*~*~

It became a routine for Gaius to search more and more of the castle and return to break the lock, to no avail. Despite his consistent failure, Chrom didn’t mind the company.

The two men struggled to find conversation topics at first. Families and past events came up but were never elaborated, certain topics were danced around but never fully conversed about. Chrom simply supposed he wasn’t the only one with an unsavory past.

“You mentioned that it had been a while since someone had crossed over… are there others here?” He eventually asked.

“There are, two mages, but we try to stay out of each other's way. I tried to talk with one of them, but she threatened to hex me if I didn’t leave her alone. And then the other just cackled with this really annoying laugh as if the other mage had just told the funniest joke. After that I decided never to speak to them again, and that was only a handful of months ago.

“Really? I think I’d go crazy without talking to someone for so long. Er… how long have you been here?”

“I’d put it around half a year. Maybe a little longer. Those two have been here for years, though. Way longer than me.”

“I see. So, I’m the most recent visitor?” Chrom surmised.

“Well, no,” Gaius said as he flashed his torch light to the cell across from theirs, where a human skeleton lay haphazardly on the floor. “I never realized the poor guy had been down here. By the time I decided to check this place out, it was already too late.”

Chrom shuddered.

That could have been him. 

“That’s awful…” was all he could say.

“It is, but I don’t beat myself up over it. People die, you know? Just the way it works,” Gaius shrugged, continuing to work the locks.

“Perhaps but… I can’t help but think there could’ve been a better way to go,” he responded.

“I guess, but death is a natural part of life. If things didn’t die, then we’d be no better than the Risen, you know? And I’m not sure that’d be a life worth living.”

“You have a point,” Chrom said in agreement. 

“Ah! Damn it all…” Gaius sighed as he held up another metal stick, broken in two. “I don’t know what these locks are made of, but they seem impossible to get through. I swear, I’m really trying, Blue… Maybe there’s still a key I haven’t found?”

“What if one of the Grey Face- er, Risen has the key?”

“Not likely. Like I said, they’re too stupid to think of keys and stuff. All they really know how to do is patrol the area and fight. My guess is that’s what they did before they died, and whoever brought them back didn’t care to give them new orders,” the thief said. “Tell ya what; I’ll look around some more and if I can’t find anything, we get to cutting those chains right off, yeah?”

“That sounds better than having my hands cut off,” Chrom responded.

Gaius let out a snort before grabbing his torch and heading out the dungeon halls. 

He was alone once again, but this time, he didn’t feel like sleeping. His body had bounced back from his burnout, and now all he could think about was escaping. Perhaps he could get out of these binds before the thief got back?

Chrom looked around the cell, though realized how foolish the thought was considering there was nothing he could do to escape himself.

Perhaps… Perhaps sleep was the best option after all.

~*~*~*~

He startled awake when Gaius threw down a burlap sack at his feet. Its contents spilled out, and with the small amount light his torch provided, Chrom could see it was full of keys.

Lots and lots of keys.

“How many rooms did you search?” He asked with a quirk in his brow.

“Basically all of them,” Gaius said with a shrug. “I grabbed every key I could find, but they all look kind of… samey. So I guess we just have to try all of them, yeah?”

It was an ambitious idea, but about twenty keys in, the men were sick of it. 

“So none of those keys have any sort of marking? Maybe something that would indicate what it was for?” Chrom asked.

“Nope,” the thief responded, trying the next key, only to throw it behind him into the growing pile of failures. “They’ve got different, like, bits? But they’re all made of the same metal and they’re all the same color and I’m  _ so _ sick of looking at these.”

The shepherd let out a sigh, trying to think of anything they could use other than these damned keys. Chrom hadn’t arrived with anything besides his sword… but maybe they could use that.

“Gaius… you haven’t seen an iron sword anywhere? Fairly well made with a nice leather hilt?”

“Hmm… you know what…” The thief got to his feet and exited the cell, only to move a few feet to the right. It sounded like he pulled something hanging off of the wall before showing Chrom’s sword. “This it?”

“It is! Wait, was it just… sitting there?”

“Sure was! I guess the Risen really didn’t think this through. So, what, you want me to try and hit the shackles off?”

“I was just thinking that’d be better than trying more keys,” he said with a smirk.

“You’re right about that- wait.”

“What is it?” 

“You’re kidding.”

“Gaius?”   


The thief returned back into the cell with a look of defeat on his face. In one hand, he held the hilt of Chrom’s sword. And in the other… was a silver key.

“This was hanging on the wall  _ behind _ your sword.”

“You didn’t check behind it the thirty times you passed by?!” Chrom exclaimed.

“I didn’t think it was important!” Gaius responded as he inserted the silver key into the locks. A small click could be heard as the shackle opened, allowing Chrom to finally move one of his arms freely. The thief made quick work of the other chain before the shepherd got to his feet, unsteady at first, for the first time in what felt like weeks.

“Gods…” he groaned, massaging his wrists where the iron clasps had rubbed them raw.

“Well, look at that. I’m glad we got you out before you ended up like poor Padre over there,” he gestured to the skeleton that Chrom  _ really _ didn’t need to see again.

“P...Padre?”

“It’s just another nickname! Gods, I’m starved for human contact, can you blame me?”

“I suppose not,” Chrom admitted. He took his sword from the thief, weighing it in one hand before nestling it back in its scabbard, which the Risen had never removed from his person.

“Well, good. Now, I’m guessing you’re done being in this dark and dank dungeon, yeah? Why don’t we get you back to the surface.”

“Please,” he joked. “I really thought I was going to go crazy down here.”   


Gaius let out a chuckle before picking his torch back up. He led Chrom through the winding dungeon hallways until they reached a worn, crumbling staircase, which they hastily climbed until a bright light could be seen from above. As soon as they emerged, Chrom squinted. The light of the thief’s torch paled in comparison to the rays of the sun, and being stuck down in a dungeon for who knows how long didn’t do him any favors.

But he had made it. 

He had survived. 

His encounter with the Risen, his magic burnout, and almost starving in a dungeon… it didn’t matter. He was alive.

But this place… was it truly to be his home? The castle ceiling above him was broken and crumbled, large swaths of stonework missing. The walls around them barely stood, and the once colorful rugs and carpets were now faded and full of holes.

Something from above fell to the ground. A chunk of stone, rounded on one side from years of neglect, and jagged on the other from where it had broken. 

Chrom’s gaze lifted above. There was a grand staircase that led to the second floor of the castle, but most of that floor had been destroyed. A large stained glass window stood intact somehow through the years. While he couldn’t get a better view of it, he saw the dazzling colors it produced as the morning sun hit it. A beautiful collage of verdant greens and dazzling blues, contrasting against warm, dark reds made for a beautiful sight…

Until Chrom saw what was sitting in the rays.

Dark scales seemed to absorb any bit of color around them. A draconic head with two twisted horns growing from each side. Six glowing eyes stared through him, matched only by a maw of gnarled and twisted teeth. And six feathery wings to match, ones that were kept tucked against the beast’s body.

That was Grima alright. 

He found that he was unable to move, seemingly paralyzed by fear. The illustrations in his old storybooks hadn’t done the terrifying monster justice. At least there, the Fell Dragon had an aura of grace and elegance, contrasted by his brutal nature.

But here… he was every bit of a nightmare as Chrom has feared.

Though, the Fell Dragon did not strike. He barely even acknowledged his and Gaius’s existence. The creature simply turned and headed into an unseen room above, walking on pairs of scaly arms and legs.

But Grima didn’t have limbs like that. In fact, for as much as he could remember, the Fell Dragon was less of a dragon and more of a serpent with wings.

“You wanna go see it?” Gaius chimed in with a wild grin on his face.

“What!? Do you have a death wish?” Chrom nearly shouted back.

“Oh, relax, Blue. I don’t think I’ve seen that dragon hurt a fly so long as I’ve been here. It’s, like, totally harmless.”

“‘Totally harmless’ aren’t words I’d use to describe the Fell Dragon…”

“Pffft, that’s not the Fell Dragon. I don’t think so, at least. If it was, you and I probably wouldn’t be standing here. C’mon, let’s go! Unless you’re chicken…?”

“Gaius, I’m not going to-”

“What was that? Bawk bawk bawk? Because that’s all I hear coming from you right now, Blue!” The thief grabbed hold of his arm and yanked him along. “If you’re that scared, then I’ll hold your hand. How’s that sound?”

“I think being eaten by the dragon would be preferable,” Chrom responded with a chuckle, though his whole body felt cold. The idea of actually…  _ seeing _ that dragon, up close and personal…

No, he wasn’t stupid. “Gaius, I’m going to find a way out of here. I have friends and a family waiting for me back home… I can’t sit around without knowing if they’re okay. And if- no,  _ when _ I find a way out, you’re coming back with me, okay?”

“Look, Blue, the speech was nice, but do you think that I haven’t combed this place looking for a way out? If I’m still here, what does that mean?”

“It means that you just didn’t look hard enough,” Chrom said with a shake of his head. He had known this thief for, what, a few days? There  _ had _ to have been a part he missed.

And if there was, he was determined to find it.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think my finger might have slipped and pressed he 'post' button. On a side note, if there's an opportunity for me to shove Gaius into a story, god knows I'm going to take it.


End file.
